


Devil May Cry :: The Furtive Strain

by VacantGestures



Series: Devil May Cry :: The Furtive Strain [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Body Horror, Drama, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Suspence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2020-11-23 12:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20892161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VacantGestures/pseuds/VacantGestures
Summary: Sure, Peyton is a demon. But that’s not the real secret she keeps. And when a horde of demon overrun the town of Fortuna, all secrets are laid bare. Not just her own, but for everyone involved.





	1. Birds Of a Feather

**Devil May Cry: The Furtive Strain**

**Prologue**

**Birds of a Feather**

"How does it feel to have a hooker for a mom??" I heard one boy say as I quietly entered the orphanage court yard.

It was late in the afternoon and the sun was setting, blood orange across the sky. What blues had remained had been manipulated into faded purple colors that signified the day's inevitable end. As I turned off the path of the outlining, outdoor corridor and past the tall shrubbery that hid away the owners of the voices, I was met with a scene that was a familiar constant.

A group of boys huddled together before another, clearly smaller in size. His albino features of incredibly pale skin and white hair forced him to stick out amongst the majority of the children at the orphanage. This in turn had led my young mind to believe, his key features were what had warranted so much unwanted attention.

The knot of annoyance on his face as he glared quietly up at his tormentors, spoke volumes. I don't think even_ I_ could blame the kid for wanting to land a clean one right into each of their throats. How he managed to restrain himself so well, was beyond me. Regardless of the massive amount of trouble the bigger boys always got him in, he seemed to have been doing a little better at keeping his composure these days.

Still... that look on his face he gave everyone, denied him any sort of solace nor companionship. Even myself at the young age of six, hadn’t been able to escape the hateful looks he would sometimes give in passing. Though of course I did notice, his features would soften upon realizing, to whom he'd been scowling at seconds prior. But our interactions never really expanded beyond that. And even though I often felt bad for him, I didn't want to build any sort of friendships on the basis of pity.

I think at such a young age, being a girl blooming in an environment surrounded by a bunch of annoying bratty boys, which constantly picked on everyone, I had a bit of a raw and unvarnished way about me-- very cynical very un-adultered. So when I say that I felt that the albino boy was secretly putting on a huge facade, I knew this to be true. He may have been unaware, but I saw him more often than not, crying in solitude. He was a bit of a crybaby-- a constant grump but, at least he was quiet.

I suppose what my six year old self would have told you at that time in response to why she ignored the boy up until this point might have been... _and I'd quote this if I ever said it, despite it being true or not_\-- "Because he was a belly acher."

"It's so crazy." I heard the boy continue to ramble on. "You're the only one here whose parent's couldn't be determined. Well... you and that other girl with the stupid eyes... But I bet even _her_ mom wasn't a sinful bitch like yours."

This, was the infamous Charlie Cadwell. I swear he was about ten, eleven... or something. This kid really had nothing else to do but pick on anyone smaller than him. And seeing how he was leading a pack of slightly older boys, as a stick with no redeemable qualities about him, but his... sort of brains? He was in the safe zone amongst his peers. I watched him sink his scrawny pale face into the other boy's nose. His pale, sandy blond hair was a mess, curtaining his bright brown eyes as he tried to make himself seem intimidating.

And I can assure you, it wasn’t working.

"Maybe you guys are actually related? I mean, seeing how you're mom is clearly a prostitute, I wouldn't disbelieve it if you have tons of other siblings she might have just dumped here like the disgusting bitch she i--**_Aaugh!!"_**

Somehow I found the albino boy's restraint commendable. Because, I was unable to stop myself from clamping Cadwell's tongue between his teeth with a shove of my fist.

Yelping out in pain, Cadwell stumbled back into his little posse who all clumsily kept him on his feet. A gentle trickle of blood became ever visible on his lips as he glanced frantically about himself for the assailant he might have believed to be the albino. But before he could even get a chance to blink, I shoved him back as hard as my little girl arms could manage, making as much distance between him and us, as possible.

Recovering quickly the second time, Cadwell's, rage imbued, gaze locked with my own, bug eyed one. His lip bled profusely now, as he snarled at me. "You little pleb!!!" He screeched, raising his fist to hit me back. I fumbled backwards into the albino kid, hastily grabbing his wrist to get out of striking distance. "You're gon--"

"_What _is going on here?" A voice cut through the violence.

All little heads looked to find one of the matrons had come stalking into the scene, probably having heard Cadwell's screams of pain.

Cadwell thought quickly as he moved to accuse me. "This little w--"

"Charlie tripped and bit his lip!" I shouted out, pointing at Cadwell innocently with faux fright.

"Oh dear..." The matron sighed, exasperatedly. "Let me see."

"What?" Cadwell protested. "No, that isn't wh--"

"_Stop _talking… and let see." She said, prying his chin down with her thumb, gazing over his new wound. It was made clear enough by her annoyed expression that she was more than done with the situation. Her eyes rolled over the lot of us. "Alright. I think it's about high time we all get ready for supper. Everyone, head inside, and let's get you patched up."

She dragged Cadwell away, whining and complaining, with his boys following behind. I was of course more than happy to notice that she had completely neglected to steer the albino and I back inside as well, leaving the two of us to our own devices. I turned back to him, realizing my hand had still been firmly clamped around his scrawny wrist.

"You know you didn't have to do that." He said. I was surprised to see that he'd actually been making eye contact. But his eyes were cold, melancholic and exhausted.

Frowning at his response I yanked my hand off him and stamped my little foot impatiently. "You could just say thank you, y'know."

"They say stuff like that all the time. Nothing's gonna really stop them." He went on, ignoring my remark. "Besides... who cares what they say?"

His Cambridge blue eyes had been tinted, almost greenish brown against the sunset's crisp oranges. I blinked, at the realization of his remark, somehow now uncomfortable making too much eye contact. Still I kept my gaze locked with his.

"Don't you?" I asked.

For some reason he stiffened. Like I'd caught him red handed, with an emotion he wasn't supposed to feel. I mean, he was like... what, a year older than me? Whoever told him he was good at masking emotions?

"L-look. It just… doesn't matter." He said, tearing his eyes away.

Sharply I sighed. Shaking my head. Honestly I couldn't care less about what that, two-first-named, pompous, acne stain, thought. I wasn't even sure what had compelled me to stand up for _this _boy. He hadn’t thanked me, he hadn’t even seemed to care that I intervened. My presence hardly seemed to be acknowledged as, his eyes drank in the last bit of evening sun. I followed his gaze, trying to see what he saw. I wondered if the world was just as vibrant through his eyes as it looked through mine. Despite whatever sadness or loneliness he might have felt, I really did hope so.

I turned to glance around at the courtyard of lush green grass, walled in by the orphanage’s less than remarkable buttresses. Wrapped around us like a motherly embrace, our home, kept us safe from the misfortunate situations that our circumstance may have, otherwise held for us. Albino boy’s white hair was tinted pink from the evening sky. Yet he still stood there, unmoving as he sulked quietly next to me. Without much thought, I took to grabbing his hand, pulling him out of the court yard.

He didn't protest, which was interesting.

*** * * * ***

"Here, Mr. Scruffles" I sang.

After having dug in to my dress pocket and retrieving some tiny pieces of celery, I held it in front of one of the rose bushes in the small canopy garden. In all my years of living in this place, it had come to be my favorite spot in the entire orphanage. Above our heads, the last bit of the day's final light flittered in through the glass canopy. White rose bushes sat along the old brick walls. In the back, center wall was a little stool, big enough for one and a half grown adults.

Together, the boy and I crouched before a rose bush, sat at the back of the little garden. When I hadn't garnered the results of my little experiment, I went, rustling into the bush myself.

"What are you doing?" The boy asked, curiously.

"I'm about... to show you... This." I answered, coming out of the bush with a white rabbit speckled with brown spots, cradled in my arms.

"...A rabbit?" The boy questioned.

I nodded, proudly. "Yep! I found him in the forest the other day. He was hurt so I snuck 'im in here to nature back to health."

I nuzzled the rabbit as I held him carefully in my arms. It's tail, fluttering in my face, and tickling my nose, causing little giggles to escape me. Even though I'd had it for a short while, I could tell it had grown fond of me.

I looked up, grinning back at the boy. But when he didn't return it, I got a little annoyed. I wasn't fully sure on what had possessed me to become so insistent but, I found myself shoving the rabbit into the boy's arms.

"You try." I huffed out. "He's friendly."

It took the boy a few seconds of confusedly shuffling the rabbit around in his arms before letting go a very disgruntled sigh. His struggle was so great, it was hard to contain my little snorts of joy. Though, I wasn't so mean that I would prolong his suffering. I gently took the rabbit back, into my possession while he eyed me, peeved.

"That went well." I giggled, nuzzling the rabbit once more.

"You know you can't keep that here." The boy decided to say. I wasn't sure if he was trying to harsh my mellow or not, but the look in his eyes held a bit of muted excitement. "If the matrons find out--"

"_He’s_ Mr. Scruffles. I _know._" I cut him off, rolling my eyes. Did this kid even know how to have a little fun? "_No one_ will find out. And _you_ won't tell anyone, right?"

I gave him my biggest set of puppy dog eyes, in an attempts to have him on my side. For a moment, it was hard to tell if it had been working or not, what with his dull stare boring into me. But when his brow's knitted together, I knew I'd broken him.

"Fine..." He sighed. "I won't tell."

I gave the boy a satisfied grin. Now he was my confidant. If I went down, so would he. But, of course I wasn't about to tell _him_ that. Instead, I set down Mr. Scruffles and fed him the remainder of my celery. All the while, I eyed the boy who'd been silently watching the little bunny crunching away. His stare was oddly concentrated-- His light blue eyes seemed almost hollow.

"You're names... Nero, correct?" I asked, gently. I couldn't figure out, how I'd managed to recall that piece of information.

The boy nodded, with his eyes still empty. But now they were on me. "Yeah... And you're Peyton."

**...Eleven Years Later...**

"Peyton!! Peyton get up!"

A garbled voice ushered into my ears. It cut through the murk and shook me back to life. My eyes shot open when I heard it, and I found myself bolting upright in my spot amongst the brush of dry, dying leaves and wild, rampaging fires.

An incredible panging in my head forced me to recall what had happened. Yet, there were no intricate memories but, the sudden attack of demons ripping through a peaceful afternoon walk, arranged for the entire flock of orphans. Ignoring the pain, I lurched to my feet and quickly surveyed the area. My senses began to clear now, as the sounds of panicked children, bloomed into existence.

I noticed the demons, next.

Being subjected to a long, harrowing experience of Demonology at a young age, I had the privilege to learn of a vast number of demon species-- old and new. So when I laid my eyes upon creatures, stalking through the withering grass, I was both perplexed and terrified. Appearing as slouching Marionettes with bird-like heads, these things sported feathers which sprouted from their choice of limbs and wherever it seemed appropriate. Their long arms, swung low, dragging through the grass as they lurched and hissed about-- the fiery chakrams in their claws, were clearly the cause of the blaze that surged through the woods. At their torsos of wooden rib cages, glowed an eerie blue light what radiating a sense of dangerous power.

The cause for my confusion was that these demons, were old... Hardly seen around these parts at least, and hadn't been spotted over the last decade or so. They went by the name Fetish. Reason why? I couldn't say. But their enormous frame, towering high over the head of the average grown man, at about eight feet made them a recognizable threat.

The screams of children, ripped into my thoughts and pulled my attention in their direction. My eyes shot across the blazing forest towards the spot, where one of the demon stood over a small group of children, held tightly within the embrace of a young woman.

"Kyrie!" I cried out.

Springing up, I unsheathed my blade, darting at the small party. Whilst the children whimpered and cowered, Kyrie's widened, brown eyes were strained on the demon. Her light coppery hair, being tossed back by the heat, escaping from the Fetish before her. Watching as it rose its long arm, to strike her and the kids, I leapt through the air, picking up speed as I surged forth. Electricity sparked, dangerously at the edge of my vision as I held out my blade. And when my sword met with the abdomen of the creature, it tore through-- one loud, sound of metal tearing through wood, screeched through the forests.

The demon, stood as though stunned. It clattered and hissed violently, frozen in its spot. The bright blue glow at its chest now clearly an expanding flame, as the thing shook, about to erupt in a violent storm of wooden shrapnel.

With a sharp inhale, I turned and sent a kick to the demon's upper half, shooting it through the trunks of the trees. I then whipped around and dove into the Kyrie and the kids. Scooping them all up in my arms, I forced my legs to carry them out of harm’s way as I rushed to escape the blast.

But I hadn't been fast enough as the surge of heat, threw me off my feet. And with it, the contents of my arms, across the forest floor.

Sobbing poured into my ears now. The fires, crackled angrily around us. I pushed myself up quickly and noticed the children laying crying about me. Kyrie had been dazed in her spot about a few yards away.

"Up, up, up." I said, gently abandoning my sword as I picked up a crying child. He couldn't have been older than three. His face was stricken with tears and his glassy eyes reflected the red and yellow blaze that danced about us. A pain, sat in my heart as I knew all too well the fear they were experiencing.

Hastily, I grabbed the other children that had been with Kyrie and rushed to her aid. Her pure white dress with torn and scorched here and there. She had small cuts dancing about her angelic features. Her brow was knitted in a crochet of pain, but otherwise, she seemed alright. With my free arm, I knelt down to cradled her upper body and gently shook her.

"Kyrie. Kyrie, wake up!"

A groan escaped her lips, and her eyes frantically fluttered open. Shooting out of my arm, her face was contorted into that of pain and fear. "The children!" She let go a small cry.

"It's alright." I tried to calm her. "Take them. I'll round up the others. The older kids know their way out. Get to the edge of the forest and wait for the children-- and ONLY, the children. Then, get out of here. Nero and I will handle the demons."

Kyrie shakily nodded taking the children in my possession. Then, hurried off without incident, escaping the blaze.

This hadn't been our first demon attack. I trusted Kyrie understood the situation well enough not to deviate. And I knew she trusted my word enough, to leave the rest in my hands.

Swiftly, I turned on my heal and raced back into the dangerous surge, sweeping up my sword on the way. Not even a moment of passing had I been met face to face with a group of children, cowering under the gaze of the Fetish.

I lunged into the mix and threw my sword across the thing. It hissed, dodging my attack and swept it's burning chakrams at my feet in revenge. I leapt over its attacks and swung out a dangerous kick to the side of its head, forcing it to crumple in the grass. But this was not without another Fetish, coming into the fray to knock me in the chest.

The children screamed out, as I sailed over their heads, perhaps thinking their savior had lost the battle. Yet, quickly recovering in the air. I threw out my palm and an arc of electricity exploded to life, zipping at the two Fetish. They went up in an explosion of sparks, shuddering violently as they threatened to erupt.

Now back on the ground I threw myself at the kids and raked them out of the danger zone. But they weren't out of the blast radius.

"Get out of here!!" I shouted. "Kyrie’s waiting for you!"

They didn't wait. I knew they'd heard my order as they headed in the direction of the others.

Turning back to the demons, I rushed them, thrusting my sword straight into one of their abdomens. Angrily the thing opened its maw, and a burning red glow began to emanate from its throat.

I drew in a breath so sharp, I almost grew dizzy at the prospect of being burned alive.

I ducked at the last second, ripping my blade from the demon just as a line of fire blasted from its beak. Rolling at its feet, I sliced it's legs to pieces before darting at the one, still crumpled in the grass, and taking out its head as my sword collided with it, forcing it to erupt of in a fit of purple voltage.

** _EEEEKKK!!!_ **

More screams from children.

I whipped my head around, searching for the cries. But, an explosion erupted from my left, as the sound of fierce battle cries ripped through the air. This was promptly followed by the appearance of an angry looking albino guy what'd come blasting out of the brush. Zipping through the dirt, he skidded on the soles of his boots.

"Nero!" I managed.

Immediately, he noticed me. His light blue eyes locked with my own for an instant only to avert their gaze to something above my head.

"Move!!" He shouted.

I just barely turned to find a Fetish, With its long, chakram, ridden arm coming down on top of me.

I felt the wind, shoot right out of me, as something forced me out of the way. And as intense as it had been, I was grateful that I had not been in the spot previous, when an explosion of fire and dirt shot through the sky, a grand pillar of death.

"The kids!" I shouted, once we’d made it to, somewhat, safety.

"That way." Nero said, ushering me in the direction.

The cries became clear as the horde began to thicken. Now surrounded by an enormous mass of the things, stalking about, we'd ended up making sloppy work of them, cutting them down as much as possible while we raced towards the sounds of panic. Once the remainder of the children had been in sight, my heart seemed to ease up and seize all the same.

"Get a move on!!" I shouted to them. "Run!!"

But my attempt to get them to move had not garnered any results. They were frozen in their spots, fear's grip was tight. _My_ fear only intensified as I watched on as the demons began to gather around the little party, readying their fire breaths to scorch the little ones to cinders.

"Nero!" I shouted frantically.

Knowing just what to do, he snatched up my wrist. I locked one hand, firmly with his before he began to, with innate strength, fling me around in a full circle. Upon release, I went flying toward the party of demons and children with my sword prepped to tear through the circle. Doing just that, I stuck my sword in the dirt and snatched up the kids in my arms and raced out of the danger zone, just in time to watch as a streak of white, flames and hot metal, sweep through the party of Fetish, slicing them all up in to small bits of burning wood. Upon their demise, hot, nauseatingly humid air, blasted through the area.

But more were still coming. From each direction, a Fetish was now racing towards us. The kids all clung to me as they panicked, as if staying close was somehow sure to cause the things to evaporate.

"Peyton!" Nero called.

I turned immediately and caught my blade what had been sent flying through the air.

"Down!!" I shouted to the children, who obeyed without hesitation.

As the Fetish closed in, I thrust my blade up into the air, and used it as the world's lowest, smallest lightning rod. A blast of Lightning thundered down onto my blade. Using this, I directed the surge of electricity to arc around us like a deadly protective shield that flashed from existence once the demons made contact. A new scent of burning wood, flushed over my little party as the demons disintegrated, falling to the ground as nothing more but piles of ash.

"Go!" I urged the remaining children. "Get to t--AH!!"

An unsuspecting group of Fetish fell from the canopy of the trees above us. I swept my sword across the air and a week arc of yellow sparks halted them. The party of what I'd counted to be four, dropped to the ground, shuddering violently. But they were only momentarily stunned.

"Go, _Now_!" I shouted to the kids, at my feet.

Already the puppets were rising from their stupor. Their limbs crackling and clanking as they shakily stood. I turned and sent a demanding glare at the children, which started a fire at their little feet. Hurrying off, I barely had the time to watch them escape the dangers as the Fetish, were already upon me.

Their speed had caught me off guard

Up until that point they'd only seemed to amble around. But now they were moving with a frightening gait.

A chakram zipped at my faced and I leaned back to miss it. Yet still the dangers persisted as another Fetish came surging down from above. I flipped out of the way, revving up a charge of electricity along my blade to counter break the oncoming attack. The thing's arm exploded into a fit of hot air, but it only kept coming.

Landing, firmly on my feet, I ducked and rolled backwards beneath the legs of a Fetish what stood behind me, allowing it to take the oncoming attack. Somersaulting back up into the air, I drove my feet through the beak of another, my boots completely demolishing its head when it made contact with the ground.

More coming still, I shot forward to meet them. Slicing off one of their legs, it was forced to halt in its tracks before I drove my blade into its torso. Ripping it free, I shoved my hand into its hollowed collar bone and tore its abdomen away and flung it at the remainder of the approaching party. The explosion slammed into them, tearing them apart at the seams.

I quickly turned about me, in a full 360 degrees, just in time to nearly get crushed by two Fetish I hadn't sensed. In the split second I had to make the decision to block, I had already known it was a bad one. Saved by my reflexes, I was now doomed to reap the consequences as they threw all of their weight into this attack. With their chakrams set ablaze, the fire superheated my blade until it turned a terrifying orange. I yelped out as the searing heat, reached my palms. But I couldn't let the blade go. Doing that would mean certain death.

Annoyed with my conviction, the Fetish grew fed up, lifting their pressure for only an instant before slamming their whole being into my blade. Already on the apex of shattering, a great line darted through the blade as it chipped and cracked loudly. Through my guard, the Fetish had managed to penetrate, dissolving the bones in my wrist to pop with pain while painfully managing to tear into my shoulder, leaving a deep gash in my chest.

I had already resigned myself to brace for the pain, when something had slipped around my waist and yanked me out of death's grip. Along with it, a sharp cry of metal and the agonizing wails from Nero, floated into my ears. The world around me was losing focus now as I hung my head on my neck. The white hot pain that was set within my shoulder and chest flared violently. I found Nero's arm had been tightly gripping me-- My own blood, spilling to the scorched grass.

The heat.

I hadn't even realized it at the time. Being consumed with nothing but thoughts of rescuing the children and fending off the demons, had temporarily clouded my mind to the fiery threat. But now as Nero clutched me tightly and in pain, in the midst of the blaze, my mind was both clear and clouded.

I blinked hard. Looking up, I found the Fetish now standing above us. Towering pillars of wooden bodies stood with hollow eyes bearing down at us. The once light blue flames at their chest had now been an explosion of red.

I winced, as Nero's grip on me tightened as he fought through his own pain. Dropping me on my face was probably not his intention, but even as he did so, he hovered over me, clutching his right arm. His expression was taught with agony and anger, as sweat spilled from his chin. I looked away from his pain and lifted my eyes to the enemy. Weakly, I lifted my left arm, and struggled to release a burst of electricity that would hopefully buy us a little time.

A sudden explosion of heat, abruptly cut through our struggle as one of the Fetish's head, erupted in a column of fire and wood. Each of the demon's heads slowly moved to whatever new comer had dared interrupted their death ritual.

I too, looked. Peering through the smoldering grass and blaze ridden woods, I watched as a whole squadron of men dressed in white, emerged from the flames. Leading them was a man of short, slicked back, copper hair. His fierce eyes locked ahead of him. His long sword glinting against the red of the fire light. Wordlessly, he commanded his troops. But even still, they all knew just what to do.

The demons around us all erupted in fiery masses as the white knights, came to our rescue. They tore through the enemy circle and roughly retrieved the both of us. Nero let go a series of angry, yet pained, yelps as they dragged him off. At first I thought it was just a broken shoulder but, then I really saw it.

His arm was burning, broken and cut up like a chunk of meat. The attack he took for me must have been so intense, as his gashes were so deep and his arm bent and crumpled as if the bones inside had been threatening to do more than break through. The skin was scorched, red and a bit charred-- an incredible contrast to the rest of his pale complexion. Nero seemed to fight against his rescuers, shouting for them to let him go.

Yet, despite the knights coming to save us at just the right moment, the demon had had not wavered. More Fetish poured into the scene like an endless horde. Where were they even coming from? They rushed the newcomers now, their agitation set to high.

"Quickly, get them both some medical assistance. Make sure the others are fine as well. We're not letting them out of these woods." That had been Credo's voice-- the man with the intent glare on his face.

As I was carried away by one of the knights, I watched with fading vision as the demon swarm was quickly cut down. But in those last few moments of consciousness, I watched as a bright flash shuttered through the flames. Credo's very form seemed to change and instead of a human, a demon stood in his place.

"Not... you too..." I groaned before my world cut to black.

_To Be Continued_


	2. Flock Together

_ **...Months Later...** _

"They're getting into town!!" A voice screamed, throttling the panic in my chest. "We have to fall back! We've got to--"

"No!" I yelled, cutting down a small group before me. My eyes dragged along the perimeter of our patrol. Demons came slithering onto the scene in vicious clusters. They leapt at my party, ready to slice them up. Their manic laughter flooded into my ears, urging me to rush forward, sinking my sword right into one of the scarecrow's writhing sack belly.

Insects exploded from its guts-- a mix of brown fluid and bugs gushed to the ground, stinking of some unplaceable, foul odor. I spun around on my heal and sliced through three more oncoming demons and darted into another group, throwing them back with a jolt of electricity. 

"We stand our ground! Don't let anymore escape!"

"Yes.. ma’am!" The resounding call of my young squad members, bore with it an audible quiver in their voices. With an intense fear in their eyes, they hesitantly dove at the monsters, leaking into the plaza.

**Devil May Cry: The Furtive Strain**

**Chapter 01**

**Flock Together**

_ **...The Day Before...** _

"As you all know, more and more incidents, concerning the demons has been steadily rising over the past year. With random spikes of activity popping up all across the edges of town, we'll have to go to great lengths to ensure that no attacks can catch us off guard tomorrow. But of course this is what we do, every year, in preparation of the Festival of the Blade. Tomorrow will be no exception, as casualties will not be an option. "

That had been General Credo speaking to the rally of knights who stood gazing up at him with nothing short of admiration and pride. He stood over a small stadium sized room of the patrol squadrons that would be heading out for tomorrow’s affair. The room was silent as they listened, but it was that silence that spoke volumes. These guys were all here, ready to do their job. And while that was the case, about a half of them were terrified.

I wouldn't blame them though. The Order of the Sword was a militant unit that pulled no punches. It was founded on the basis of fighting demons, of all things. There were a lot of fresh cadets in which, this would be their first mission. Protect the town from a possible horde of Demons? No pressure. You only had the fate of the town and all its residents riding on your shoulders. Top that off with your own life, and I think that would be enough to stress anyone out. What made their trepidations more plausible was the fact that, Credo had mentioned, there was a demon attack _somewhere_, nearly every day. More knights had to be set up in and around the town, and that led to the push for more newbies to be thrown into combat sooner than expected. A decision I found highly disagreeable.

"The general is at it again." A voice whispered into my ear.

I did my very best to suppress a frown as I stood there. Stationed off behind Credo, was a small entourage of elites that held significant prowess in combat amongst other members of the Order -- myself included. In the back row of two, there I stood with the last person I would have liked to pay me any mind.

"He always does such an inspiring job in boosting morale." Went the voice again. And I only prayed for the actual briefing portion of this meeting to begin.

I side eyed the young man talking to me. His light brown eyes, covertly concentrating on my face somehow through the blinds of pale, sand blonde hair. Under the damning lights that cascaded over us, dark shadows shot across his features that only accentuated the pastiness of his skin.

"Oh Cadwell, you should be quiet or Credo will seem far less noble when he's chewing you out for that blatant disrespect of yours." I responded quietly, focusing ahead.

"Disrespect?" Cadwell let forth a very quiet chuckle. "Why, I hold no such ill perception of the man. He is a leader, by example. I can only continue to pray to the Savior that he shall remain in good health."

"Ah yes. But, what is respect, if you must _talk_ during his speech?"

"Well it's nothing I haven't heard before." He mused, momentarily pausing before continuing. "Though does that really matter? You and Nero are also always chatting away during briefings, am I wrong? How is he anyway? It's been quite some time since he's participated in one of these."

He_ was_ wrong, but I didn't care enough to correct him. "Why should I know? I don't keep a tracker on him."

"But you're always with him, aren't you?" He said, matter-of-factly. "I'm sure you see him just about every day."

Pursing my lips, I let go a sharp, quieted exhale through the nose. Cadwell's fatal flaw was that he never knew when to shut up. That, and he was a pest on an outstanding level. At times, it was hard to believe that he'd been the same, obnoxious, foul-mouthed, pipsqueak that ran the matrons ragged. I didn't have that misfortune of growing up alongside him after he'd been adopted but, I didn't need to in order to see that something in him had changed. Even in his youth, his eyes had retained their innocence. Yet now under the creases of shadows that cut across his brow, that purity was gone, shimmering bright with some underlying malign intent.

"I've not seen Nero since the day of the incident." I hummed softly. My gaze drifting away from him. It was the truth, but not one I liked to admit.

"Is that so?" Cadwell's tone went from condescending to intrigue.

I highly doubt he hadn't noticed. He was annoyingly observant. Worse still, he'd somehow developed an unhealthy infatuation with me. I wouldn't put it past him to linger about, keeping one ear open for the details of my social life. And since it was Nero, for whom his detest had never wavered, I was positive this creep had more knowledge of his whereabouts than even myself. But not just information pertaining something as small as who's seeing who. When taken into account, his status in the clergy, I knew well enough he had eyes on just about everything that occurred in the town of Fortuna. As an informant of the order as well as Chaplain of His Holiness, Cadwell was dangerous. On the surface he seemed humble and unassuming but there was a reason he was up here, standing next to me.

The touch of something gliding across my lower back, shook me out of my thoughts. Instantly my pupils shot in Cadwell's direction as I knew it could have only been him. Gripping my waist firmly, he leaned in with his lips threatening to touch my ear--His breath, hungrily lapping at my neck.

"Then it will be so much easier... for us.." Were his choice of words.

It was then that all the sound in the room felt as though it was being siphoned into my ears through a funnel. Credo's droning speech sounded distant and muddled. An immense pressure sat atop my shoulders. With a shout clamped in the back of my throat, I refrained from causing a scene as an awful wave of memories crashed into me. A heated rage slowly began to build as Cadwell, pulled me closer into him. Having been positioned this far in the back of that small stage, no one would be able to notice.

Without so much as making contact with him, I bit down, hard against my wisdom teeth, preparing some choice words. And as I opened my mouth to speak, it hadn't been my words that would perforate the silent assembly.

"Chaplain Cadwell." The voice that tore through the tinny distortion of noise had, of course, been General Credo. His eyes looked expectantly towards us, craning his neck as if searching for a hidden body amongst the crowd. A pause immediately chased the call as Cadwell casually looked up at the sound of his name.

"Please deliver your passage so that we may begin the briefing." Credo continued.

"But of course, General." Cadwell spoke, with an air of calm.

As he moved away, his long fingers traced around my lower back, gently and with purpose. He left me there, shaking. Where he touched, I felt an awful tingling-- a lingering sensation I hoped would soon subside. And when his voice carried proudly throughout the room, I could not push down the anger that had been steadily rising within me.

To say the shaking _did_ stop would have been a lie. It spread fast to my hands and legs. And for a minute, my knees almost gave out on the spot. Had it not been for the fact that I was standing amongst a room filled with soldiers, things might have gone a little different. But the reaction I was having was hardly unwarranted. Though I forced those thoughts away, as I clamped a hand around my forearm, they would continue to nag at the back of my mind throughout the entirety of the meeting.

I hadn't even realized the briefing had ended when I found myself drifting through the halls of the Order's facilities. Although I felt a bit hazy, I made sure to appear as busy as possible while heading towards my next destination. But, before I could arrive there, the call of my name and a touch upon my shoulder had been what pulled me out of my fog. And for an awful second, the voice sounded like Cadwell's. I whipped around ready to just about end the man, for even thinking he could casually lay a hand on me. But when I found, that it hadn't been him to reside there, I sucked in a sharp breath.

"General!"

"At ease." Credo's voice was quiet, but still carried through the length of the busy hall. The clamor of foot falls of Order members, coming and going, quickly consuming his words. Slowly, I let my shoulders fall. "Walk with me."

With it not being in my interest to disobey, even a casual order, I followed blearily after him. My eyes stuck to the ground, as I watched my feet appear before me, only to roll beneath my weight and vanish from sight momentarily as the other took its place. Following him outside unto the courtyard, I nearly ran into him when he stopped abruptly before me.

"That meeting..." Credo spoke suddenly. "What do you think of it."

The briefing had been a blur in my mind but I hadn't missed the peculiar details pertaining to forming a sort of loose ring round the perimeter of the Fortuna's outskirts. While not my place to speak up, I wouldn't deny that the decision had seemed to me, like a careless effort. The constant, troubling thought that those above were always prepping for some grandiose and-- in my words: unholy-- coming, was a constant persistence in my mind. 

Even still... who was I to diss the word of the very man spearheading the Order's decisions?

"Truthfully?" I asked, my eyes not leaving the grass beneath my boots.

"It is preferable." Credo said, a slight smile etching unto his features as he chuckled.

I narrowed my eyes to reassure my sanity. "There are... concerns." I sighed, after a bit of a pause. "Too much room left unattended. Platoons are much smaller than those of last year's event and even the hot spots will be flimsily held. I can't imagine that this meeting was called for the Festival of the Blade of all days. Also, there's an unreasonable amount of knights to be stationed inside the opera house. Wouldn't it be wiser to--"

"Those men, are at _my_ command." Credo interrupted, his sharp brown eye shooting in my direction.

I bit down on my lip. But a soft expression quickly took the place of Credo's, usual imperial facade.

"I only ask due in part of my concern for one of the parties." He sighed, moving towards me, his arms folded behind his back. "A group of Cadets-- fresh out of training. This would be their first mission. But I can sense their lack of confidence. They are around your age. Young and eager-- reckless even. But you are level headed and skilled to the point of inspiration..."

Then he stopped, his eyes now falling upon the horizon, as the sun shone brilliantly in the sky. The wind shuffled its way across our faces, filling the silent air that fell between us.

"General?" I asked.

He seemed to be, more or less, mulling something over, as he drew forth yet another sigh. His brown eyes meeting mine, to cast upon me, some heavy burden. "How have you been?" He asked, decidedly switching up the conversation. "You looked a little pale during that meeting. I know you've been on mission after mission for the past handful of months. It's almost rare, that I see you at the house."

His said this quietly, dropping his voice low, for only the two of our ears. And while this concern was well met, I pushed down any urge to speak beyond what was necessary. His small family and I were close. And it had been that way since, I'd been a mere eleven years old. But in that past year and some, I'd slowly began to distance myself. From the secrets I'd discovered and wished to keep as only misunderstandings— The things I'd come to know, had... sullied the way I'd felt about him... About myself. I didn't know enough to warrant any mistrust or disrespect. Credo had still been Credo. But still... my knowledge of what he knew of the Order’s true intentions was stuck at a flat out zero. I had no idea of... how much I _could_ trust him. I couldn't even ask. Not out of the overstepping of boundaries for differing ranks, but simply out of fear of the truth... or the lack there of.

"I'm fine." I said, straightening a bit, to show as some sort of proof. "Just a little tired. And It's kind of my job to be where I'm needed. Now what was this concern of yours, you've steered us away from?"

Credo looked at me with uncertainty as he pursed his lips. Then he nodded as he cleared his throat. "The group of Cadets." He spoke. "I know I ask a lot of you already and that you've not been responsible for a squadron as of yet but, as Lieutenant, I could only trust you to handle this group with care. Would you take on the task?"

"Of course, General." I responded, flatly.

"Good." He nodded solemnly. For second it seemed like I made him feel a bit uncomfortable with my response. Even so, he turned to leave. "I've things to attend to. But I'm sure I'll catch the chance to talk to you tomorrow. There's something else I'd like to discuss."

He left me stood there in the Order courtyard. The loud wind, howling ferociously, competing with the defiant roars of the sea below. Not wanting to be left alone to the ever looming thoughts that threatened to plague me, I quickly followed suit.

* * * * *

Unconvinced.

That was the word that came to mind when I met with the cadets in question. There were only five, marking the smallest party for this venture. I sighed heavily as I stared them all down. Four young men and a girl, had all been entrusted into my care. And the weird thing about this was that, they really had all been no older than myself, just as Credo had promised. Upon my approach, I quickly noticed them to be a bucket of nerves. Which might have been amusing, if it weren't so hard to watch.

"Y-your Ladyship!" The girl was the one to stammer over her words, as they all saluted to my arrival. "Ah-- I mean, My Lady! I Mean---!"

"An anxious mind, holds a miserable future." I stopped her, placing a hand on her forearm.

She paused, looking to me with glittering eyes. In fact they all did. Their focus was on my touch as though I was some sort of angel, bestowing upon them some sort of divine right. This reaction wasn't out of the ordinary. Often times, I was treated as some sort of miracle child, simply because of my parentage. Townsfolk and ranking officers alike held me in high prestige, despite the fact that hardly anyone knew a thing about me. They knew only who my father was, and because of it, I was considered a blessing and a benefit to the entire town.

I guess, you could say I was like a mayor's daughter-- Over glorified and looked to as some sort of role model. When really, I was just some… debased trophy daughter.

"Perhaps in another life, we could've been friends." I teased, grinning playfully at the crew. "But in this one, you can just address me as Lieutenant."

The five of them eased up a bit, but it was clear their nerves were here to stay. Though I didn't mind. As long as they stayed sharp and followed my orders, they'd be fine.

Soon we were down to business, heading towards a spot of a decadent entrance plaza that marked the beginnings of the town. The sun beat down on my squad as we stood, stationed along the edge of railings. The place sat over a manmade river that gurgled calmly against the cool air. The wooded area at the cusp of the brimstone bridgeway, grew to be my focal point, as a heavy presence seemed to be emanating somewhere off in the distance. I took this down, considering it to be a possible threat. But one thing I was certain was that it definitely was no ordinary demon.

Still, there was no real way of knowing, and I had no intention of riling up the newbies. Turning away from the spot, my gaze drifted across the party of five. They all stood tensed, with one hand on their Caliburn and their eyes, peeled and darting every which way. I frowned, wondering why they had joined the Order's cause. Though it hardly mattered, I couldn't help but wonder-- knowing that everyone's reasons, differed drastically from person to person. I know mine had hardly been much of a choice. In fact, choice, for me, was a right that was substituted for a luxury. And a luxury I indeed did not possess.

Uninterested in souring my thoughts any further, I directed my attention to the sky. It had to be just after noon, with the Ceremony about to begin. But just as I was about to run away with any further thoughts of what the people I knew would be up to at this moment, more pressing matters reared their heads.

"Lieutenant!" One of the cadets called me from my thoughts and I quickly learned why.

It was only a handful of the things-- no more than about ten scarecrows slinking their way into the plaza. The loud sound of hissing flooded the entire space almost reminiscent to that of raw, rice being dumped into a pot. The squelching of the damp, discolored, burlap sacks, sloshed their way onto the scene, brandishing their long curved executioner blades and matching masks of deaths. Loud, hungry laughter sifted through the air, doing more to unsettle the cadets, and just enough to annoy me.

I drew my weapon, just as prepared to fight as any time before this but, I couldn't say the same for my underlings.

Together, the scarecrows launched themselves at the small party of five. While they'd all been firmly grasping their swords in hand, all but one of them managed to meet the demons in battle and a stifled cry of fear shot through the plaza. Ripping across the space, I tore my blade through cloth and bugs. Snapping at the terrified cadet, I sent them an expecting glance. That in itself seemed to shake them back to reality, realizing the cowardice in their mistake.

"More!" Another cadet yelled somewhere off to my right.

I snapped my head around, searching for the trespassing creatures, only to have my heart sink into the pit of my stomach.

Tens of demons had quickly become several dozens, running into the square through the trees. I turned, quickly surveying my party, of far too little members. Or at least the numbers didn't matter. It was the lack of experience that would be our downfall. With a sharp sigh, I turned on my heal and sunk my blade into a fast approaching enemy. Releasing my blade I spun into another group of the things and ripped forward, sending a small party of the scarecrows up in purple sparks and ashes.

"On me!" I shouted, not wasting a second to cut my way into the quickly growing horde.

They poured from the trees and all around. They trapped us into a writhing swarm of burlap, that leaped and hopped about, swinging and cutting at the cadets. I parried a bugger, slicing off one of the heads of the things and a flood of insects, spilled like blood from the dying sack. Another lunged at me, and I caught it by the peg leg, ripping its blade from its body and chucking it through a line of the things that had come flooding my way.

"They're getting into town!!" A voice screamed, throttling the panic in my chest. "We have to fall back! We've got to--"

"No!" I yelled, cutting through a small group before me. My eyes dragged along the perimeter of our patrol. Demons came slithering onto the scene in vicious clusters. They leapt at my party, ready to slice them up. Their manic laughter flooded into my ears, urging me to rush forward, sinking my sword right into one of the scarecrow's writhing sack belly.

Insects exploded from its guts-- a mix of brown fluid and bugs gushed to the ground, stinking of some unplaceable, foul odor. I spun around on my heal and sliced through three more oncoming demons and darted into another group, throwing them back with a jolt of electricity. 

"We stand our ground! Don't let anymore escape!"

"Yes.. ma’am!" The resounding call of my young squad members, bore with it an audible quiver in their voices. With an intense fear in their eyes, they hesitantly dove at the monsters, leaking into the plaza.

The number of scarecrows was daunting. As my gaze turned to the flood of demons, I couldn't help but think the timing had all been too perfect. My cadets had been assigned to what was considered a hot spot for demon activity-- The edge of Fortuna's borders. With civilians, packed into a singular building for a couple of hours, no one would be the wiser. Those on the outside, would be left to consort with the demons, positioned much too far out from each other, to alert forces closer into town. My earlier suspicions for the arrangement of squadrons was right to be a concern, only strengthening my previous reservations of some underlying plan.

Turning from the thought, I focused in on a cluster of demons. Their executioner masks, grinning broadly as they clattered, clumsily forward. I lunged towards the monsters as they rushed to meet me, my blade out to skewer them. I sunk into the horde, swiping through body after body-- my blade driving through squelching carcass as they flew from the end of my sword only to go careening into their nearby brethren. Dodging their swipes were an easier feet, as their predictable attacks, were quickly chased by hungry blades that wanted nothing more than to satisfy their lust for blood.

The sound of heavy strikes flew by my head— confident strikes, that thundered all around me. I quickly turned to find an enormous broad sword flying through the air, dashing across demon heads, taking them out ten at a time. The thing spiraled around in an arc, making its way back to the edge of clearing of trees. My eyes traced the line of trajectory as the sword found itself being caught by a figure who cut his way into the horde. And with my noticing the man, that heavy presence from earlier had come with it, almost crushing down on me. I turned quickly to find my cadets, barely holding their own, having been thrown to the ground, all defeated.

When my eyes cut back to the newcomer, I almost jumped out of my skin.

Now he was upon me, his sword coming down on my face. Instinctively I blocked and countered with a swipe to the chest, but he leapt away, diving back into the horde. I swiped through a trio of scarecrows, before my sword had been once again met with the strangers. He grinned down at me, with a peculiar expression— Like he was pleased to meet me somehow. Stranger still, his albino features were reminiscent to a certain someone I knew. With blue eyes to match, he seemed like an older, version of Nero with scruff and a more... nonchalant air about him.

But still, this guy was attacking me. I shoved him back with the flat of my blade and raced after him to cut him down—a blur of red, zipped around as his red duster jacket fluttered against the gusts of his movements. For some reason, he seemed to be taunting me, evading while not even looking ahead. The demon all around him didn't even seem to bother him but somehow I found that he'd plucked off a few at a time while swiping at me with that huge sword.

I blocked the first attack head on, then ducked the second. I twirled on my heal, raking my blade across his guard before throwing out a surge of electricity. Stunned, he flew back through the horde, with his body pulsing with purple light. I flew at him, aiming my blade at his throat as he quickly rose. Realizing he'd just block the attack, I faked out, and quickly dove at his feet, sliding at his ankles. But before the attack could connect he vanished.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and my eyes snapped to attention above. Just barely, had I managed to roll out of danger as he appeared overhead, with his sword ready to nail my face into the pavement. But I hadn't been finished, as I swung my legs at the blade he'd been supporting his weight on. He was flung off balance, as the sole of my boot made contact and I followed this up with a kick to his face.

The man, shot through the air with a loud grunt. But he recovered almost immediately. Before he landed on his feet, I zipped at him, in the form of a crack of lightning. A vein of bright yellow and purple streaked behind me, singeing up the lot of scarecrows what had been consumed the plaza, and reducing them to cinders. Upon meeting the mystery man, the atmosphere around us, dipped into a surge of heat that rushed angrily over my skin. But just as quickly as it had come, it vanished, leaving nothing but the cool afternoon breeze. The loud clang of our swords meeting, tore through the space, forcing my teeth to vibrate. Though despite all this, the stranger hadn't been fazed. Instead, his eyes popped with delight, as though he was surprised at the amount of skill I wielded.

"A neat, trick!" He awed. But, it was done more to distract me as he kneed me in the stomach. Losing my grip on my sword, the man quickly chased this action with another, grabbing me up by the collar and flinging me down at the pavement.

I landed square on my feet, leaping away just in time to miss another one of his attacks. But he was persistent, rushing me with his hand extended-- his sword trailing behind him. I kicked him in the jaw once more, but he relented, throwing forth his sword. I maneuvered out of harm's way, grabbing the blade in my palms, and flinging him out of my personal space.

He sailed across the plaza before skidding to a stop, the soles of his shoes grinding against stone and dirt.

I hadn't realized just how quiet the world around us had become. Scarecrow carcasses had littered the ground, and in the mix had been my cadets lying about, barely conscious. There was nothing left but the sound of mine and the stranger's heavy breathing, hissing through the afternoon air.

My eyes then drifted to where my sword had been and I sucked in a sharp breath. Drawing forth a new one, I unsheathed my dagger and readied myself to attack.

"Don't bother." The man, said waving his hand through the air. He'd seemed worn out by the looks of it, or he was probably playing that card to get me to ease off.

"_You_ attacked me." I asserted.

"Yeah but that's in the past now." The man grinned, his blue eyes concentrating on mine. "There was just something I needed to check. And I'd say I got what I was looking for. Between you, the demons and these guys, My business would appear to lie elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" I echoed, tightening my grip on my knife as I watched the older man, stroll through the sprawl of bodies. "Assuming, I'd hear you out long enough not to kill you, right here."

"I mean, do you really have a reason to?" He asked, spreading his hands out before him.

"Again. You _attacked_ me." I referred.

"Ah... that." He turned over one my cadets with his foot, and they let out a soft groan. Otherwise he did nothing more, as he turned up his head and placed his hands on his hips. Letting go a sigh, he looked about himself more like he'd been mildly inconvenienced and not like he'd just willingly waltzed into a danger zone. "Well. Seeing as you'll be busy here, I'll just take my leave."

"Wait!" I shouted.

But it hardly even mattered as he had very literally vanished.

Quickly I sheathed my knife and rushed to check on my fallen comrades. The guy in the red duster had been right, despite him being obstinately vague. This attack was only the beginnings of a more serious threat. And while I, nor my team, had been the stranger's initial targets, someone else in this town had to be.

I bit my bottom lip, as I stared around at the plaza. The faint sounds of carnage, beyond our position could be heard, resounding in the distance. Plenty of demon had easily made it past us, set to roam rampant through the streets of Fortuna. Uneasily, I rallied my forces together. We'd have to head into town and meet the demons before they could do any harm to the civilians. And judging by the way our last battle had gone, these guys weren't ready to handle any more of it. The looks on their faces, were just as uneasy as the pressure that was steadily rising in my chest.

The poorly positioned squads, a party full of rookies set to hold the entry point of the town, and a horde of demons pushing their way into Fortuna— all set on the holy Day of the Sword. Not to mention the man in red, whom was actually cause for greater concern. Judging from the fumbling of my squad, they seemed to hold no recall of the assailant what happened upon our midst. And I wondered if they'd even noticed him come through this way at all.

Part of me wondered what the guy had "needed to check." But another part of me, refused to be so naive.

Not wanting to discover what the aftermath of his "business" in this town would turn out to be, I ushered my team back into town.

_To Be Continued_


	3. Until The Cat Comes

"Peyton, it's time to go!" I heard Kyrie's voice rush into my ears.

Bright, young faces, swarmed my vision as the happy little mob, excitedly clamored around me. They pushed and shoved at each other, all of them eagerly trying to show me a new drawing or share a new story. Every single one of them all spoke over the other to gain my undivided attention. It was more than enough to bring a great grin to my face, lifting my mood from the souring thoughts that seemed to follow me here from the dreary mission I'd just come from. Being off duty for the rest of the day was more than a pleasantry. So much so that I opted to help Kyrie with the children at the old orphanage I grew up in.

As I turned away from the happy crowd of young faces, I searched for the origin of the voice. And when my eyes met with the glowing silhouette of Kyrie, they drifted over towards a figure, what had chanced upon the scene.

Silver hair and dark blues, sullied my vision. Whatever vibrant mood had been slowly building up over the course of the past hour, was quickly deteriorating at the sight of the unexpected newcomer.

Nero stood there, next to his sister, appearing almost as uncomfortable as I'd felt. The memory of our last encounter just over half a year ago, turned the pages of those events in my mind as our eyes met. I recalled the amorous moment we'd briefly shared before it had been tarnished by a more pressing matter that would go on to be a grave misunderstanding. Nero had left in a hurry and I didn't bother to stop him. And despite how close we'd grown over the years, I'd not seen him since.

It might have been that, either I was that good just missing him, or Nero may well have been avoiding me. Days had turned to weeks and weeks to months. And before I could take hold of the situation, I'd grown so used to the idea that we'd probably just grew apart, never to see each other for a long while. Even when I'd found myself free, I didn't dare go searching to reconcile the situation . Doubled guilt had sat itself heavy in a nest over my heart, and I felt obligated to ensure that, what had happened could hurt neither of us any further. I had to convince myself, maybe things would be easier left alone.

Yet there he stood. And back, did all of those negatives thoughts come crashing into me as I forced myself to move towards him. The swarming children around my feet made it easy to move but, my thundering heart did very little to help stop the shaking in my hands. I found myself anxiously counting the steps as I grew closer.

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen...

Kyrie stood, smiling happily. Oblivious to the tension which escalated with every step forward.

Twenty one, Twenty two...

If I'd just have taken responsibility for what I'd done and seen, that day, would this have been an issue? Or Perhaps Nero wouldn't even look at me, let alone be here. The thought of his trust, broken, because of the secrets that I'd kept buried for the last five years was more than enough to bear. Looking at him now, I was once again faced with that same horrible dilemma I'd been met with then. The crushing terror of truly losing someone I loved to the sins I'd been forced to commit.

Thirty

My heart, hammered so loudly, I thought I wouldn't be able to speak. Yet thankfully the children all screeched eagerly when they saw Nero, hastily sweeping him away in a wave of excitement. And in those unexpected seconds of his gaze having been involuntarily ripped from mine, I couldn't help but notice the troubled look in his eyes.

"Well, they're in a much better mood than I realized." Kyrie laughed a bit. "Oh, Peyton, are you alright?"

Her gentle voice somehow calmed me but now, I'd been firmly clamping my palm tightly around my fingers. I could feel the heat all over me, gently stinging my skin as my whole body throbbed in panic.

"Of course." I told her, shooting her a unassuming smile, unsure of how I'd managed to suppress the quivering in my throat. “Shall we?”

* * * * *

A warm summer breeze, shot through the forest, spiked with the sweet smells of earth and sky. With the list of pressing issues, plaguing my mind, constantly growing, it was a pleasant distraction that doubled in calming my nerves. This, coupled with the sounds of cheerful children at play and the sleeping toddler in my arms, that cooed and nuzzled my bosom, was a welcome comfort.

Though, I hadn't exactly escaped Nero's presence.

Urged to stay close together, he'd been stationed a good distance away, entertaining a group of kids that refused to let him be. As much of an anti-social as he was, kids liked him easily enough, bothering him to no end. Yet he seemed not to mind their company, giving into their smiles and puppy eyes as they pleaded for him to play along. Though, I imagine that may have had something to do with being an orphan himself.

"So I was right." I heard Kyrie say from above me.

Sat against the large trunk of a tree, I found myself looking up and craning my neck to find her come playfully peeking out from the other side.

"About what?" I asked, quietly, minding the child in my arms.

"About you and Nero." She said, matter-of-factly

Gracefully she moved in to full view and joined me in the lush patch of grass. Her gentle smile as she looked at me nearly made me blush.

Nero's sister, by way of adoption... I could never fully express just how small and insignificant, I felt next to her. I'd only existed for a near two decades but, even as that was the case, I found her to be the greatest source of purity, I believed I'd ever come across. To me she was a literal angel, seeming perfect in every way, from her mannerisms and kindness, to her perseverance and unparalleled beauty. Over the years, she became like a big sister to me, and on many occasions, I wished she actually was.

Her presence was such a comfort, I always felt my troubles dance away in her wake. More than once I found myself incredibly attracted to this woman, as her eyes always seemed to sparkle with a playful light of mischief.

"What about us?" I dared to ask, feigning ignorance.

She let go the smallest chuckle as she shook her head, her ponytail gently bouncing back and forth between her shoulder blades. "Every time I asked about you, Nero either played it off or gave me short answers. At first I thought that maybe the two of you were buried in your duties, but after what I'd witnessed today, so far..." She sighed, almost apologetically. "I wouldn't have asked you both here, if I knew something was going on between the two of you.."

Suddenly I felt naked, and sorely embarrassed. I made the grave mistake of going a second too long without the slightest response. Kyrie was incredibly perceptive. I knew she could see right through me. Especially me, who always found it impossible to lie to her. Without even looking, I could tell she was waiting for some sort of answer— or maybe even a simple reason as to why.

But the truth was, that there were no answers I could give her. No easy ones, anyway. Yet with the guilt having been eating me alive, since that day, I was more than happy to share even the most equivocated conveyance of the truth. Even so, when I found myself glancing up at Nero, something seized in my throat, stealing away whatever words I would have readily divulged against the summer's caressing breeze.

Kyrie nodded silently, as she turned her eyes to the sky. "I suppose I understand." She said in almost a whisper. "And I'm not going to pry. But I do think you should talk to him. Nero isn't always honest about his feelings. He'll pretend to act aloof, especially if something is bothering him. But you of all people should already know that."

And then, in what seemed like one elegant movement, Kyrie swept the sleeping child out of my arms, and rose to her feet. Shooting me an expectant smile, she winked before striding away towards a small party of children, completely captivated by a nearby gurgling stream. Her soft voice carrying authority as she called for them to be cautious.

Despite her words of encouragement, I couldn't help but feel weary. Sure, I might have been caught in the throes of the situation, but I was quickly growing tired of the feeling of desperation and defeat. And above all else, Kyrie spoke true. I did need to talk to Nero, but I wasn't really sure where to start. There was a lot to unpack after all.

I drew in a sharp breath as I stood from my spot, with every intention to join the remainder of the flock. But the earthen smells had suddenly been tainted with that of smoke. Taking in another deep breath I sniffed the air, curiously, turning about myself in search for the origin of the burning scent.

"Run!!" I heard a child's voice, scream breathlessly. "Hurry up!!" It had been unmistakable. Those had been cries of fear, not play.

I turned to search for the source of the voice, as this one was followed by two others, along with an intense wave of heat, that couldn't have possibly been a drastic change of weather. And as I searched the tree line for what they had been running from, my eyes caught a glimpse of a streak of fire, shooting across the forest floor in the distance. It was moving more like a creature than an accidently wildfire.

Instinctively, I placed my hand at my holstered sword. It had only been now that I was so grateful I hadn't returned home to put it up as I whipped around on my heal, hurrying to warn the others of the coming danger. But that plan had been dashed, as the temperature around me fluctuated dangerously and I was suddenly ravaged by a scorching heat. A loud hissing quickly followed, flooding my ears with a shrill screeching before I was thrown off my feet by the blast of a wall of flame. The world around me spun violently as I was thrown through the trunk of a tree before smashing into another. What had followed could only be described as one of the scariest moments of my life, as I listened to the sounds of children scream in terror, as I fought against my wavering consciousness.

**Devil May Cry: The Furtive Strain**

**Chapter 02**

**Until The Cat Comes**

"Don't let them reach the Opera House!" The voice of one of the knights, sounded from somewhere around me.

Heading back into town, presented my party and I with results far worse than what I'd anticipated. From looking at the sheer number of scarecrows that danced and ran about the streets, I'd surmised that the flood of demons, hadn't only been spurred from our spot at the town's entrance. But that thought did little if at all, to ease my growing concerns. I thought about the civilians and then I thought about Kyrie, and Nero— my mind drifting to a past event that would forever haunt me, in times of an outbreak much like this one. While the circumstances were vastly different, that still hadn't made me feel any less rattled by the situation at hand.

The flood of Scarecrows, swarmed forth, in a chorus of shrieks and gurgled cackles as they dove at my party. I threw my blade, through the sack body of a fast approaching one, and a swarm of insects spewed from its writhing gut. Turning quickly I drove my blade into another, cutting through a cluster of demons before leaping out of the way of a stray blade that came sailing in my direction.

My eyes, singed with a burning heat as I stared at the sword before me. A modified caliburn with a crescent like hand guard which bloomed with the intricate detail of the wings of fallen angels, imbued into the silvery sleek blade that glinted dimly in the light. While still a slimmer version of the Order's standard weapon, it retained the beautiful image of a rapier, but with more bulk to it.

In normal circumstances I wouldn't be able to help but admire the craftsmanship of the blade if I hadn't been forcing back a glare in the direction in which the weapon had come— the owner, stood proudly, emerging from the swarm, as heaps of demon, lay unmoving around him.

In one movement, he rose the sword of what seemed belonged to a fallen knight, and sent it surging through a line of unsuspecting scarecrows that exploded in a mass of slimy insects. His party had been accompanying him, making quick work of the monsters that invaded the block. All the while, they stepped calmly towards my team and I, their demeanor unflinching and unbothered by the carnage around them. Cadwell himself stood amongst the scene, as though he were some sort of godsend, coming to quell the plague of monsters what ran rampant through the streets. His expression said more than I'd wanted to read, as he grinned, a casual grin right in my direction.

"Form up!" I barked at my cadets, and they complied immediately, lining up behind me.

With a quick glance, I checked to ensure their wellbeing, and thankfully they'd all been holding their own. But already a large number of bodies of knights, fallen, dotted the many demon corpse piles around the area. I turned my eyes away from them, looking back in the direction of the approaching Cadwell. I had to fight to retain my composure, as my last encounter with him flashed through my mind.

"Oh, Lieutenant." He said, his tone dripping with false concern. "My apologies. I hadn't quite seen you, what with you darting all about the place, like an elegant assassin."

"What's going on." I demanded, gripping my blades tightly. His calm eyes, unnerved me to no end. "Where did they come from? Is there a status report?"

It was impossible now for me to remain inwardly calm under his gaze. He was looking down on me in a way I'd never seen him do before. And it only awoken the fear of possibilities that he was more than well aware of the Order's, true intentions. His light brown, eyes which caught the light after the afternoon sun, and almost looked a devilish red, gazed tenderly down into mine as he cocked his head a bit to the side, smiling a gentle yet cunning smile.

And then he took a step towards me, and I almost flinched. Though I had to remain in the position of dominance, especially before my party. He got only close enough to remove his sword from the ground, before his eyes bore, knowingly into mine.

"I've no status report, as of this moment." He said, calmly. "But I think it's safe to assume that we are under attack by the horde. And an incredible one at that."

"Point of origin." I hissed. "No leads on where they came from?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, I've no clue." Cadwell, shrugged. He then looked back at his posse and order them to disburse before his eyes turned back to me. "I was stationed at the Opera house, as you already know. My duties were to attend the service, alongside His Holiness. But the unexpected attack that occurred forced the entire hall, to flee. I was ordered to check in with the squadrons around the town, but was met with waves of demons coming out of the woodwork. I can't tell you any more than tha--"

"Attack?" I stopped him. "What attack?"

"Ah, yes..." He sighed. "I _am_ telling this wrong, aren't I? Hm.. well, let's see."

"Cadwell." I said through gritted teeth.

And he let go such a lighthearted laugh. "Oh my! What a scary look on such a lovely face. I suppose I neglected to first mention the very pressing matter, of an assailant, who'd come barraging his way into the Opera House and disrupted the service. In fact, you have been called away from your duties here, to assist Nero in apprehending the man as soon as possible."

My heart nearly shot through my throat at those words. Assailant? Man? Could it have easily been the man I'd met at the plaza? How had he managed to cover so much ground in the past hour, on top of the horde of swarming demons? And what business did he have at the opera house?

There were far too many questions running through my head, but I decided to put them to the back of my mind, to somewhat calm my nerves.

"I wished you had discussed this sooner." I sighed. "Nevertheless, I'm heading their promptly. But my cadets, cannot attend me."

"But of course," Cadwell's grin grew. "I'm to relieve you of your burden and they will be taken into my care." Then he turned to my group, who stood gripped with fear, behind me. "Isn't your first day on the job, thrilling?"

None of them spoke. Yet all glanced at each other with uncertainty.

More than done with Cadwell's obscene behavior, I turned to them with a warm smile in hopes to ease their nerves. "Fight hard, and stay vigilant." I told them. "Follow Cadwell's orders and he'll keep you alive."

"Yes, lieutenant." They all called forth, in nothing short of an uneasy tone. I could already tell, their morale was falling by the second, and knew better than to think Cadwell would help to boost it.

I turned away from my team, as I hurried down the streets. The opera house was a good few blocks away. I knew that I could make it their in good time, without the weight of my team as I surged past and overwhelming amount of bodies and carnage. Fallen knights quickly turned to fallen civvies and my heart sank into my bladder at the sight of bloodied bodies that lined the street— their faces, of permanent fear revealing the horror they felt in their final moments.

Turning my eyes away from the saddening sight, I picked up speed, rushing down the streets towards my destination

* * * * *

As I ran through the desolate court yard of the Opera house, I was met with the sounds of clashing metal which perforated the eerie silence of the world around me. Recalling Cadwell's words, he mentioned that I was supposed to "assist" Nero in apprehending the assailant. I hadn't seen him since the accident, but last I heard he was still in a medical sleeve. And it's not like I'd been keeping up with him. That incident only seemed to put more distance between us. And between missions and tasks from the Order, it easily got pushed back into the recesses of my mind.

Despite all that, I had no trouble setting my differences aside when it came to a mission of the wellbeing of others. Duties came before feelings, and that was the exact frame of mind I was in as I darted into the Opera house.

The place was a complete wreck, to say the least. The once beautiful teal and silver interior, looked like a tornado had hit it. The pews had all been thrown about here and there, and there was a break in the sky light above, letting the radiant sun shine down upon the two figures what had been locked in battle.

One had been Nero, whom, to my surprise was doing well enough on his own. He fought aggressively, clashing with the very person I dreaded. The man who Cadwell had mentioned—the man in red. Upon my arrival, he noticed me immediately and a playful light sparkled in his eyes.

"So you finally caught up!" He called from across the room, deflecting an attack from Nero, who quickly looked back, in search of me.

"Peyton?!" I heard him question as though he'd not been completely thrilled to see me.

Though I found it understandable, I realized too late he'd been distracted as the man slammed the butt of his blade into Nero's neck. Grabbing him by the collar of his coat, the man flung him across the room, as if discarding his opponent for a new one-- namely me, as he came rocketing in my direction.

Thinking quick, I shot my blade directly at his face, and in the form of a vein of lightning, I streaked across the room, catching the grip of my sword and slamming it into the man's guard. Sparks flew dangerously, flickering off my form as I whipped around and sent a kick into the side of his face. Sadly he ducked the attacked and countered with a fist to my chin, following it up, by grabbing me by the ankle and flung me to the floor. Unfortunately for him, I caught myself on my hands, shooting back at him, feet first with the heels of my boots, colliding with his mug.

As he went flying through the air, Nero seemed to take this opportunity as he recovered, zipping past me, with a sword set to run the man through. But the assailant managed to kick the blade out of his possession, sending it sailing overhead. He then proceeded to swing kick Nero right in the chest before driving his foot into his face. Nero was thrown across the room once more, and I rushed the mystery man, with a knee to his nose. I then swung my leg around, hooking it around his neck, flinging my body forward and sending the guy straight into the marble floor.

On impact, it cracked, ripping up the stone work and flaking up bits of debris. The man, hurridly leapt away as I came, diving down at him with my boot, prepped to crush a few ribs. Persistent, I chased after him, sweeping my blade across his guard. But, with his other hand he'd been concealing a gun, I'd yet to have seen up until this very moment— a glint of silvery steel and the cold stare of the dark pit of a barrel, which he pulled on me, and fired. I narrowly missed the shot, ducking my head out of the way but, it had all been a play at misdirection, as he shoved his palm into the side of my face with his free hand. He holstered his firearm and clamped his other against my neck, going on to sweep me around in a full circle before flinging me across the room.

Nero had been there to snatch me out of the air, and like a dangerous game of ping pong, slung me right back at the assailant.

Sailing back across the opera house, I slammed my blade into his risen guard. Anticipating this, I unsheathed my dagger, and thrust it right into his shoulder, where he let forth a disgruntled yelp. In return he smashed the butt of his sword into the side of my head with such force, black dots flickered across my vision. I nearly crumpled when my feet hit the floor, but the man, hadn't been finished-- swiping at my chest with his enormous broad sword. I barely managed to block as I hastily threw up a clumsy guard to defend myself. But it was nothing more than a fruitless effort as my blades were stripped from my hands. A sharp hiss escaped my lips as I watched, through blurred vision, the man's glinting blade close the space between it and my chest

But a haze of blue would prevent such a fate, as the battle cries of Nero, flooded my ears. Racing at the man, Nero threw out a fist, to attack, and my eyes caught the wispy glow of something bright blue. The man, now interrupted, quickly attempted to block the oncoming punch, but it would do him no good, as the force of the attack, shot him back, and off his feet as he was thrust into mid-air. But Nero, seemingly done with the charade, raced after the assailant, snatching him back by the ankle, drove another fist into the guy's face, crushing him against the marble. More wreckage and stone work had been ripped up from the impact, and the mystery man's sword was tossed into the air, landing right between my feet.

Now having been forced to sit down, it was the flickering of red and blue that drew my eye, as my vision began to refocus. A hint of that heavy presence I'd felt earlier, sputtered to life as the man's appearance shifted for just a second. The reds and blacks of his attire, has suddenly appeared, melded together in an armor-like layer of toughened skin and claws. I couldn't make out much detail as his form reverted just as quickly as it had changed. Though, now it was clear why his aura had felt so powerful.

But Nero didn't seem to notice this. Or at least he didn't seem to care as he proceeded to slap a hand into the man's gullet, proceeding to fling him across the opera house and into the giant demon statue that stood tall on the other side of the room. He then whipped around, snatching up the assailant's sword, shot it toward the man and impaled him there, right through the chest.

Almost instantly the man went limp as a shallow breath escaped his lips— his head and limbs hanging lifelessly now, as his crucified body was kept affixed to the enormous facade.

And just like that, it seemed to be over as the resounding echo of Nero's foot falls, pulled my attention away from the man in red. Just barely had I managed to catch a glimpse of that blue glow that I'd seen just moments ago before he hid it away beneath his sleeve. A sleeve that would fall over his supposed injured arm, in which he'd sustained some pretty nasty injuries during the incident.

To say I was curious would have been a grave understatement. Nero and I have not been speaking. I know nothing about what's been going on, due to the fact that I have not only been avoiding him, and even Credo— _of course this is to the best of my abilities, as a result of my duties as lieutenant_\-- But I haven't even managed to reach out to Kyrie.

And so now that he was stood just yards away from me, his eyes surveying the decimation of the room, that lay before him, I couldn’t' even figure out how to work up the nerve. I was met with the challenge of simply speaking to him. It only took seconds for the palpitations to start. Too late it had been, to keep the nerves at bay when his gaze finally met mine. His troubled eyes of light blue, Cambridge settled over me for a moment too long and the ever president obligation to speak, reared its head.

But when I finally opened my mouth to do just that, my words were clipped away by the pained grunts that had come floating into the silence from up above.

Our attention quickly shifted upwards to the spot on the statue, where the man was supposed to have been pinned there, dead. Yet what my eyes, portrayed before me, was the very scandalous contradiction, as he was very much alive and pushing his way, sword and all, out of the entrapment between weapon and effigy. With his blade, still protruding from his chest, he fell to the floor, landing on his feet as though he wasn't in any mortal pain. And with what seemed to be sheer, ease— like, maybe he'd done this before— he gripped the blade in his palms, and proceeded to extract the brand from his body. Blood gushed from his wound as he did so. The loud wet sounds of his thick gore, that slapped against the marble floor, snaked its way into the silence, chased by the string of his pained grunts which followed.

I shifted in my spot as his eyes traced from Nero to me, his labored breathing slowly calming.

"You aren't human, aren't you?" Nero suggested.

The man chuckled, vaguely nodding his head in response. "We're the same." He supplied, delivering his answer with his eyes only on me.

If this guy was going to out me right here, I wouldn't argue the fact. If I could sense that he was a demon from early on, then he, someone with clear experience, could have just as easily done the same. Tearing his gaze away from mine, he nodded towards something at the floor before revealing an even bigger issue.

"…And them."

I hadn't noticed it when I'd come onto the scene, but a sprawl of dead bodies, littered the Opera house floor. Yet, these weren't just those of normal knights. With their frozen faces of anguish in death, I could see them for what they had become. And the glowing eyes and scaled and blackened skin, was more than enough evidence of the secrets that sifted through the Order's upper ranks. More disturbingly was the fact that Credo had mentioned to me, the day prior, that these men were under his command. The red, sleeve detail of their uniform indicted not only the rank of officers, but Credo's personal handpicked soldiers. There was no way, he couldn't have possibly known the fate of these men. And recalling everything that I knew, from all those months ago, my fears, were only solidified by the scene before me.

"Though I suspect, the two of you carry something different from the others." Suddenly the man's voice was above us now, and I looked to find him sitting casually along the frame of the Opera House's new open concept. He grinned down at us, cheekily as he'd most likely took note of my gaping expression.

How did...

"What are you talking about?" Nero demanded.

"You'll find out, soon enough." He said, dusting off his hands, as he stood. "In the meantime--"

“Hey!!" Nero shouted, firing his gun, which before then, had been concealed in its holster. He'd aimed his shot right where the man had been. And through the crumbling debris that kicked up from the foundation of the structure, a somewhat comical cloud of dust was produced, that when cleared away, revealed the assailant had vanished.

But not before he reappeared, to taunt Nero, with an, "Adios!" and a grin before ducking out sight once more.

Not even a second later, "help" arrived on the scene, clattering loudly into the Opera house, in search for the assailant, and most likely ready to apprehend the man. But when they had found no such person available, they turned to taking statements from Nero and myself. In return, I attempted to gather a bit of information on what went down here, before my arrival. Interestingly, and annoyingly, my inquiries garnered the strangest responses.

And by this I meant that, no one would _say _anything.

You'd think, with all this fuss over the man in red, paying the town a visit and causing such an uproar, so much as to force the entire building to evacuate, that knights, especially those whom I outranked, would readily divulge the matter. Instead I was met with worrisome glances and pitying stares from just about everyone who merely looked my way. Even Nero, who sat alone on the other side of the room, sent me gloomy glances, every chance we made accidental eye contact.

Had everyone been ordered to keep the whole thing, "hush, hush?"

My suspicions only increased when Credo entered the building. Immediately he began barking orders, scrambling the troops and sending them all away on duties to attend either demon or citizen.

And then his eyes found me and he too exuded an aura of sympathy.

I at least hoped that he was going to break the news to me as he slowly approached. And that was even more frustrating. He was making it all too obvious that he had bad news to deliver as he sauntered towards me.

"Glad you could make it here, despite the chaos. I see Cadwell, found you well. I had been a bit worried." Credo finally spoke. His words were quiet and sincere but, still something was off.

"Of course..." I replied uneasily. "How are things on the outside?"

"The problem has been quelled for now. Citizens have been urged to stay inside, and we've got officers, stationed throughout the town. I've made it clear that, if another surge rears its head, to take definitive action."

"And what about that man?" I pressed. I lowered my voice, an attempt at masking my annoyance. "No one will tell me exactly what happened here."

Credo took a step away, his eyes meeting the destruction around him before turning back to me. His gaze was solemn, and his dark brows curled together into a knot of disquieted entanglement.

And then, after a deep inhale, he spoke.

"Peyton… The true reason I called you here was not simply to assist, Nero." He confessed, regrettably.

I raised an eyebrow at him, expectantly, waiting for him to finish.

“But the things that have recently transpired and the reason for summoning you here,_ are_ the same." He paused a moment more, stepping closer to me as he lifted his chin a bit before continuing.

"Your father is dead. That man…. The man in red… disrupted the service, and assassinated His Holiness."

_To Be Continued_


	4. Dispersal

My eyes traced the battered features of the statue, that stood tall within the Opera House’s small frame. Though, this effigy wasn't just some random figure that happened to parallel the image of some... mere, man. Instead, it was made in the likeness of the very being this town had sought refuge against.

A demon.

To clarify, it hadn't been just any demon who the townspeople constantly fell to their knees for. Rather, it was storied to be **_the_** Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, whom no living soul on this earth could go on without hearing the name. He'd supposedly been a feudal lord of this very town, reigning over the Island a good handful of centuries back, after his warring clash with his demon, brethren. The town, insists upon this legend's validity and used that notion to worship the devil as one would a god.

Ever since, Sparda's very image hung over our heads in the opera house, and his weapon of choice, emblazoned into the fabric of our uniforms as the symbol of the Order of the Sword. The same Order which posed to eradicate demon hordes—in Sparda's name— which threatened to consume the town every handful of weeks. And the same Order who's ranks I served amongst.

You probably find me some sort of foolish hypocrite-- Believing in a demon as a god, and praising the very thing that aimed to kill me nearly every day. But, my beliefs don't line up with that of the town's. And I most certainly have no intention of justifying the principles of Fortuna, nor its militant group. I only say what I've learned in my youth. The teachings that had, so constantly been beaten into my had as a little girl, during the orphanage school sessions. And along with that, were countless Sunday sermons that served to reinforce those teachings.

But even that level of adamant brainwashing could never be on par with that of my father’s, who whole-heartedly idolized Sparda as though he truly was some sort of divine being and not a creature of the world's underbelly.

Sanctus... or... the man which everyone called, His Holiness, was not my father. Or at least, he wasn't by blood, anyway. He was the beloved Vicar of the town, making me the beloved child of clergy...

Don't worry. I'll spare you the details of what it was like to be the poster child of an entire city, cast as an idol with heaping expectations and the severe burden of being the epitome of grace, decency and eventually valor...

No...

No, I won't trouble you with something so trivial. I don't even aim to express just how much my time after adoption had forced a great change in myself. My childhood.... stolen away by the blatant cultist depravities my beloved "father" had set upon me. The pain and the torture he'd led me through. The promise that it would all be in the name of sacrifice, to keep the town safe for generation far after my own...

My innocence... lost and my own blood... shed... by his hand.

Sanctus was... _not _my father. And he was **_anything_** but holy.

I... _hated_ that man..

And I'd be glad at the announcement of his passing—celebratory even... if it hadn't meant that some far grimmer fate were to proceed the events of his death should it occur.

**Devil May Cry: The Furtive Strain**

**Chapter 03**

**Dispersal**

"Peyton"

Something touched my back, ejecting me from my thoughts. I turned to find Kyrie had been stood there, smiling gently at me, a hint of sympathy in her eyes.

No... don't feel bad. I don't want you to feel bad for me. Especially not if it has anything to do with that... I don’t even want to call him a man.

"Oh, Kyrie..." I finally spoke. My voice was quiet, as I glanced about the room.

Only Nero and Credo had been left, both separately placed amongst the wreckage. Credo stood alone, gazing up at the statue of Sparda, much like I had been. That same, hardened expression ever present across his features. I remembered his mention of something he'd wanted to discuss after the events of the festival. And after everything I'd witnessed so far this afternoon, I wondered if it had anything to do with my greatest concerns-- his intricate knowledge of the Order's darker secrets.

There was no easy dismissal of the evidence what had previously been scattered along the opera house floor. But, given the turn of events, I highly doubt he'd feel so inclined to speak with me now, or even in the nearest future.

My eyes swept across the room where Nero had been noisily reassembling, what appeared to be his sword. The sounds of metal pieces locking into place, poured into my ears, ensnaring me in another onslaught of thoughts as my eyes remained fixed on that head of silvery white hair.

"How are you feeling?" Kyrie's voice recaptured my attention.

“I…” Looking into her warm, brown eyes, brimming with concern was a challenge. I hadn't seen her in months yet, our first interaction in such a long while had been her attempting to console me. How could I, then, look her dead in the face and lie to her about how I felt? Sanctus had meant nothing to me for so long, there was hardly a shred of empathy for the man left in my heart. Yet, there I felt like such a coward. Even more of a coward than I'd ever been as was forced to lie to her.

"I'm fine.” I assured her, forcing the tiniest smile. Though the truth was that I was far from it. “But, I'm more concerned over why thy sent you to deliver Nero's weapon instead of an Oder official."

"As am I." Credo's voice intercepted the silence. He paced a bit towards the middle of the room, his usual steely expression masking any sort of emotion he might have been harboring. "But as the situation stands, every officer has been called to action. Unfortunately, it cannot be helped."

"So what now, then?" Nero entered the discussion. "That guy's still out there, running free. Do we have any information on who he is, or his motive?"

"Fortuna Castle!" A new voice, announced.

This was followed by the loud slamming of the opera house doors. Footsteps clattered along the marble flooring as an unwanted face, made itself present before us.

"Chaplain." Credo greeted him sternly.

"Cadwell..." Nero hissed. He stood immediately with his sword completely assembled and in full display.

"It certainly is bitterly gloomy in here, no?" Charlie spoke amiably, as though he hadn't been stood before the very people whom had no taste for him.

"I assume, you come with good news." Credo narrowed his eyes.

It goes without saying, that Nero absolutely _hated_ Cadwell. But it wasn't as blaringly obvious to most that Credo's distaste for the young man, formulated from a short list. Although, due to the fact that Cadwell nearly outranked him, with almost no experience, as well as the fact that he held the title, _Chaplain of His Holiness_, Credo really had no other choice but to regard his fellow officer with some... restraint.

"Ah, but good news is never without the bad."

"Just spit it out." Nero growled, his light blue eyes flared dangerously at Cadwell who hadn't even bothered to flinch.

Stepping a bit closer, Cadwell let forth a teasing sigh as he turned to Nero. A broad smirk quickly formed along his lips. "Ah... yes, of course." He chuckled. “Just give me a moment to recall every single reason why I didn't miss seeing your savage mug around headquarters, first"

"How about I help you out with that?" Nero challenged, his sword already roaring to life as he throttled the gear.

"Please!" Cadwell, grinned broadly. "Id've never believed you’d do me the honor of--!"

"**_In. Such._** A time of Crisis!" Credo cut through the bandy words with a knife of irritation. His voice boomed and carried, forcing an uncomfortable shift in the room. "I would have hoped that we might show some respect for those who may be in mourning."

And_ I_ would have hoped he hadn't been referring to me.

Nero glanced in my direction as though he was trying to gauge whether or not I was the person, mention. He didn't know anything about the relationship between my fath-- I mean... Sanctus and myself outside of the fact that he was... "strict" and gave me a hard time. Despite that, he resigned himself from the possible confrontation, sucking his teeth as he withdrew his sword.

Cadwell on the other hand, chose a more distasteful direction, taking this opportunity to move closer in proximity. His eyes, uncomfortably locking with mine as he made a great show of slipping my hand tenderly in between his fingers.

"I apologize," He began, as a sly and ingenuine grin, took shape upon his lips. "For the ogre that sits across the room."

"Chaplain!" Credo, hissed through gritted teeth now.

Cadwell retained a deceptively charming smile as he turned away from me. An arm folded behind his back, he sauntered about the room while delivering his intel with misplaced enthusiasm.

"I have received word that our unexpected guest has been spotted, creeping his way through the Ferrum Hills. It is highly suspected that he is on his way to Fortuna Castle."

"Why there?" Nero asked, sounding rightfully suspicious. "What could he stand to gain from sniffing around that old tourist trap?"

Given my own history with the place, I was inclined to join in any and all misgivings when Fortuna Castle was in question. But this feeling was only solidified by the deep glare Cadwell proceeded to cast upon Nero.

"An artifact of holy impunity and a shining trove of taste and history would be so easily glossed over by a heretic such as yourself." Cadwell punctuated, his words almost coming out in a spray of passive aggressive hisses.

Though this hardly seemed to bother Nero as he scoffed, rolling his eyes at the poor attempt to force him into unequipped silence.

"In any case," Cadwell continued. "The man in red was last seen heading for the mining area. It only lets out at the mountain cliffs. Which, suggests, he's headed for the castle."

"I suppose that does sound plausible." Credo agreed, albeit regrettably.

"Indeed." Cadwell delighted, hastily. "I suggest we move quickly. Peyton and I will head for Fortuna castle to meet this perpetrator and--"

"No." Credo immediately denied. He hadn't even given Nero a chance to react. "You are needed back at headquarters. Nero will accompany Peyton in your place, to apprehend the man."

Cadwell's eyes had turned into light Brown slits as a dark shadow fell across his brow. It was one thing for him to grow mildly annoyed when dealing with Nero but, to show outright malice in the face of the Supreme General of the Order was another, entirely. I wondered, then, what sort of interactions the two happened upon when I wasn't around to witness. And by the looks of it, they'd possibly been far from pleasant.

"A word." Cadwell, hissed, turning away from our party as he paced towards a tower of toppled pews.

Credo, exhaled deeply, as he crossed the threshold to meet Cadwell at the bottom of the stairs, where they almost immediately engaged in hushed conversation.

"Are you sure you'll be alright to carry out your mission? Kyrie asked, when the two were out of earshot with their whispers.

"I told you, I'm fine." I persisted. "_You_ need to be more focused on making it back to safety in one piece."

But Kyrie only smiled as she waved off the order. "Never mind all that. I'm just happy enough to see you after so long. It's been months!"

"It... has." I agreed. A rueful smile shifting across my lips.

She gave me a sort of, half teasing, half expectant look and immediately, I got what she'd been insinuating.

"Kyrie, _please_!" Those words came out in a hoarse whisper. "I’ve been... busy since then. I haven't had much of a chance to breathe, let alone talk to--"

"Nero!" Kyrie's voice rose with feigning delight, as her eyes shot above my head.

My stomach thrust itself into my throat as I turned to find, he'd been standing right behind me. His clear light, blue eyes were fastened to Cadwell and Credo as they spoke along the other side of the room.

"What do you think they're talking about?" He asked, his voice low.

I followed his distrusting gaze to where they stood, locked on to the two men. My eyes were fixed on their lips as I tried to read what they were saying but Credo seemed to be speaking through his teeth. Cadwell on the other hand was much too showy for me to concentrate on his side profile for too long.

"Not sure..." I told him, though I had my suspicions.

"Mmm....." A dissatisfied growl sounded from Nero's throat as he narrowed his eyes in their direction before looking down at me. "Anyway, how are you holding up?" He asked, his voice now a bit softer.

I glanced back at Kyrie in time to catch her shoot me an encouraging grin. Though it was much appreciated, the fact that the two of us would be thrust together for our newly appointed fetch quest, was more than sobering. I'd have plenty of time, now more than ever, to not only catch up but, clear the air between Nero and I.

Of course, that wasn't to say it was going to be easy.

I shifted my gaze back to Nero who stared at me with strangled concern. The way he'd been looking at me, reminded me of a wounded dog. Once again, I was faced with the guilt that held me prisoner all this time. But in hopes to push down that feeling I opened my mouth to speak. That was until a sudden tremor shook the Opera house, forcing loose rubble and debris to shake free of the foundation.

Credo and Cadwell came away from their hushed conversation, the looks in their eyes reflecting their respective personalities. While the General seemed to hold an expression of stunned apprehension, Cadwell grinned, obnoxiously at the sudden prospect of what seemed like more trouble.

Wordlessly we all moved outside, the five of us splaying out along the Opera house stairs. The moment we stepped foot out the door, the screams of terrified civilians could be heard. Immediately faced with the scene of a slaughter, Scarecrows chased and leapt after those who sought the refuge of the possible shelter of the church.

"Well then!" Cadwell shouted, moving first as he danced into battle, moving swiftly and with a bit of grace, spinning through the mob of human and demons, only cutting down that which could be deemed unsavory. Not liking to be the second to act, Nero raced in afterwards, thrusting his Red Queen through the air, sending a blaze of fire trailing behind him.

Unsheathing my blade, I readied to move, but not before Credo could stop me. I turned to catch him yanking me back my the upper arm as he'd been hurridly ushering Kyrie towards a route of safety. "We will have that conversation, I'd promised, when the two of you report back after your findings at the Castle." He said, which at first I almost hadn't caught. Then he rose his voice, now wearing his general's hat as he moved through the crowd.

"Cadwell, On me!" He shouted. "We're evacuating the residents back to Headquarters!"

"Aye, captain!" The Chaplain grinned after having sliced through the head of demon, what had been about to do some one in. He kicked down an elderly man, who was about to get shredded to ribbons, before taking out another group that leapt at him. Though he only smirked as he rose his blade, and a loud piercing noise cut through the air. It stunned every demon around him, forcing them to stop in their tracks, their writhing burlap bodies, quivering uncomfortably at the shrill noise that sawed through the court yard.

For a moment, everyone stood frozen, in awe. But when they realized that the fiends about them were paralyzed because of the strident cries that resonated from the blade in Cadwell's possession, they all broke into a clambering frenzy as they raced towards the exit in which Credo had been directing them.

Once the civvies had managed to drain out of the courtyard, Cadwell sheathed his brand, and the whining ceased. He followed the crowd, his sly eyes darting towards me as he did so, ensuring that I caught his elongated grin on his way out. Releasing his blade once more, a sudden explosion of air, erupted from his person, collapsing the exit in which the swarm of people had fled, leaving Nero and I alone with the now mobile mob of Scarecrows.

I raced into the mini horde, sweeping my blade through an unsuspecting batch the things. Bugs sprayed through the air, as their dying screams fizzled into silence. Laughter from behind me drew my attention and I turned to find more, come flying at me from overhead. Spinning on my heal, I thrust my blade into the ground, creating tall waves of electricity that pulsed through the earth, burning through demon and ripping up the stone path.

I leapt out of the way in time to find Nero come rounding the fountain, riding a demon his blade had impaled. As his sword propelled him across the yard, a blazing stream of heat trailed behind him. I grinned at the somewhat morbidly comical display before thrusting a foot into another scarecrow. I then turned, swinging my blade out overhead, to take down a volley of the things that had attempted to ambush me before flipping out the ever growing danger zone, just barely missing having my head sliced right down the middle.

Nero flew in after it, crushing it under boot before skewering the poor thing and revving up his Red Queen. Oil and heat mixed together before burning into the hapless creature. Another pull of his gear sent him throttling across the yard, streaking through a rapidly growing path of demons. After a full lap around the fountain, he threw out his sword, sending the sole surviving scarecrows into the Opera House entrance, draw gate. The impact seemed to loosen the metal gating, forcing it to fall atop the heads of a few unsuspecting Scarecrows that decided to stroll in.

"Well that way's... blocked." I noted aloud, watching as the horde outside clanged against the metal barricade, threatening to break through.

"You want to keep the fight going?" Nero asked, glancing at me, as he strolled towards the side door of the Opera Houses storage house.

I said nothing as I looked back at the piles of sack carcasses that lined the court yard grounds. Another surge that broke past what was supposed to be, the safety circle of the town. My eyes scanned the skies, noting the smoke trails in the distance, rising up over the Opera house. A tightness in my chest seemed to hold me in my spot for a minute as I fought to chase away the continued dread that threatened to break my composure.

It was only the sound of Nero, attempting the barge his way through the storing unit’s door, that shook me from my trance.

Wordlessly I approached, and waited for him to notice before ramming my heal into the entrance, sending it clanging open, barely hanging off its hinges.

"They keep it locked." I informed him before heading through.

Nero only stared as he wordlessly followed me inside. The door, meekly clanging behind us.

The smell of mildew and long aged wine filled the air, perfuming us with a sickeningly sweet must. Light filtered in through spots on the grimy old windows, and dust particles flitted through the air, as though we were walking through a sort of magical place. I took lead, heading up the stairs and through a small hallway that enveloped us in a quiet darkness. Had it not been for the ominous blue glow that bounced off the walls, emanating from behind me, we would have been surrounded in nothing but the ever escaping pitch black.

I said nothing about it, as I let our foot falls fill the silence. I still wasn't exactly sure what to say to Nero at this point-- about the past and about the glow. But he didn't seem to share in that feeling.

"Seems like you and Cadwell have gotten more friendly." He spoke, his voice reverberating around us.

Though the hidden agenda behind this, seemed to be to keep my attention off that dim radiance. Sadly, for him I didn't really fall for it. "More like he's gotten more encroaching," I grumbled, focusing ahead. "Your arm seems better. When did that happen?" I didn't bother looking back as I asked.

The sudden disappearance of the glow, told me enough, as the sound of him gripping his sleeve over his hand was perfectly audible.

"Just found out today." His voice wavered abit.

It seemed like a partial lie, interestingly enough. But I wasn't one to sit in judgment.

I said nothing more, and we remained silent, continuing towards the top of the storehouse. Pushing on through to the terrace above, we got a good look at the town below. The streets were filled with demon, running rampant. Random fires, overturned vehicles, fallen light fixtures and other hints of vandalized property lay scattered about the roads. It looked more like a natural disaster had hit than a demonic takeover.

"There's so many..." I uttered.

From where we stood, it almost seemed like we were watching a silent film, as the noises down below hadn't reached us. But that hardly mattered, as seeing such an enormous assembly of the things lining every inch of the streets as we continued forwards, only brought the dread back. This wasn't just some random attack. There was no denying that now.

"It's never been this bad." Nero said, his eyes, scanning the world below. "We'd better hurry."

And hurry we did, past another set of doors that led us to what looked to be an old chapel.

...at first glance.

The place had been sectioned off into two floors. The first, where we stood was lined with... prison cells, running along the walls. They'd been empty for the most part, but had clearly been used, as one or two of them played a host to large spatters of blood, browned from age. A smaller stair case led to an audience of empty chairs, lined up neatly before a sort of small, working obelisk that housed a blue glowing orb. Guarding the area, stood a tall statue of a winged women. Her somber expression gazed upwards as she dramatically beheld an enormous scale that leaned heavily to the left.

I knew of a lot of things that went on in the Order's walls and sometimes even the little things happening within smaller communities around the Fortuna. So the thought that some cultist activity might have took place within these walls, didn't seem at all farfetched. The city played host to a religion that worshiped a demon, of all things, so I can't say this would have come as too much of a shock to me.

But the suggestion of the blood stains and the small encagements were obvious indications of something a bit more sinister.

I watched as Nero made his way curiously down the small set of stairs, and followed him silently behind. The blue, glowing orb on the pedestal, growing clearer in detail as we neared it-- a sort of half skull with inhuman teeth, and strange scale like texture, housing an orb of azure wisps.

"What the..." I heard Nero mumble, reaching out for the dubious item. Picking it up, he held it closer, peering into the orb as though he could see something within its radiance.

With the skull no longer sitting on the pedestal, the whirring of the mechanisms within it, slowed to a stop and the lights dimmed. I furrowed my brow as I watched, bewildered as a sudden burst of light fizzled from the palm of Nero's right hand— the orb radiated far brighter than it had before. Then suddenly, Nero shrank back in surprise, wincing as the thing exploded into a fit of smokey light before dispersing.... _into_ his hand!

A sudden silence, quickly began to engulf us as Nero's eyes darted towards me. I could only meet him with my ever-growing wide eyes, as I finally caught a glance at the bright, electric blue claws that peeked out from within his coat sleeve.

I opened my mouth the speak, my small voice struggling to demand its presence. “Your ar--"

**_"No!"_** Nero shouted over me, panic alive in his words. "I can explai--_Augh!"_

Another burst of light cut through his words, this one brighter than the last. Nero grabbed his wrist, as though it hurt. A massive gust of freezing air, discharged across my vision stemming from his arm. It threw me to the floor, sending me on my rear. I let out a startled cry as I was tossed into the assemblage of chairs. But otherwise, I remained perfectly fine, as I couldn't help be keep my eyes strained on the demonic arm that finally revealed itself for all the world to see.

_To Be Continued_


	5. Resounding Tension

** _...The Year Prior..._ **

"Just a quick, stop by the house. I forgot to grab something out of my father's office." I said, turning to glance behind me. Catching light of Nero's droopy face as he pouted, I couldn't help but let go a chuckle. "C'mon now, don't be a baby. This is the last stop, I promise."

"You said that, the last three pit stops you've made." Nero sighed, mildly annoyed. "These bags are getting heavy and I don't want to keep Kyrie waiting too long. Besides, isn't there a chance your dad's already home? I kinda don't want to have an encounter with him. I can tell, he's not too fond of me."

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about that." I softened my voice, squeezing the bags of groceries tightly against my chest. I hardly cared about what my father thought, let alone, when it came to Nero. "He's definitely out, I can guarantee. And it's not like this isn't on the way, so stop being such a whiny baby!"

We hurried down the block, the warm autumn breeze, shuffling through the streets after us. Once in sight of home, I took wider strides, for Nero's sake. Unlocking the door, I hurried inside and set the bag of groceries along floor, rushing towards my desired destination.

"I'll be quick!" I called, back not even taking the time to remove my shoes as I stamped across the wooden floor boards.

Heading down the hall, I took a left at the last door, and quietly stepped into father’s office. The dark, teal rug silenced the clacking of my heals as I stepped inside. The room was a torrent of shelves flooded with books that spilled across the floor and table in piles and stacks that spotted the room. The same could be said for papers, work-related and non-essential alike, scattered atop the desk.

You'd never think the man to be so disorganized from looking at him. Yet, his patience and planning deceptively contrasted, the disorder that occurred within his personal spaces.

I approached the desk, believing I'd find exactly what I'd been in search for with ease-- A few reports of local activity, I was set to hand in to His Holiness directly. Though for some reason, the word had been passed off from Credo that I was now to deliver the reports to him. It was a minor inconvenience, but I was grateful enough the task was a leisure one as well as the fact I wouldn't have to deal with my father.

I sifted through the handful of papers along the desk before spotting my own. But then my eyes caught a glimpse of a case file that read, _Ascension Ceremony Logs_ and I couldn't stop my hand from opening the folder. For a moment I glossed through the documents with morbid curiosity. Immediately my world darkened as I read the details reporting such things I already found to be commonplace amongst the majority of the records I'd peered into— Intricate details of the gruesome transformations brought on by the secret rite of passage in which only certain members of the Order were allowed to take part in. And in the least common instances; survive through. But what was most odd about the documents, was its relevance, showing logged info that would indicate they'd dated back, six years.

I frowned, recalling that had not been a savory point in Fortuna's history. Wondering what had been so pivotal at that point that these papers would need to be here, in my father's office, in the present day, I flipped further through the files until I found the answer.

"Got what you need?" A voice spoke from above me.

I snapped around almost too quickly to find that Nero had been standing alarmingly close. He had this... gentle look in his eyes, which for a second I mistook for some kind of confusion. Had he seen the notes of the document? I inched back, keeping a firm hand atop of the papers in a poor attempt to hide their contents, only to realize that Nero hadn't been trying to see what I'd been reading. Inching closer, to match my step away, he placed a hand on the edge of the desk. His arm now, brushing up against my hip as he tilted his head a bit to the side.

"You looked like you were getting a little distracted..." He said quietly.

I wasn't sure if he was aware, but those words came out far more suggestive then he might have meant them to. But then, again, I was probably being naive, as he wordlessly leaned in a bit more. Suddenly I became aware of the situation. My face burned intensely as I looked directly up into his eyes. Bright blue pools, catching the orange light of the setting sun, and washing his pale skin in its evening glow.

"Peyton…"

"Ah... Huh?" I responded intelligibly.

A powerful shudder passed through me as Nero's hand found its way around my waist as he pulled me closer, his body now firmly flushed against my breast and an intense warmth cascaded over me. Pushing down a cry of pleasure, I tried with all my power to look everywhere but into his eyes. I wouldn't deny that I had been a little head over heels for him, but the moment couldn't have come at a worse time as it had been completely soiled, by the contents of the documents, splayed along my father's desk.

The report divulged information on a six year old case of a demon attack in which Nero's parents had been killed. I had only managed to gleam bits and pieces, but at the mention of the ascension ceremony being the cause of the attack, my heart instantly became strangled in a knot of pain. This was something that Nero needed to know about.

But revealing this truth wouldn't be the end of it.

There were more pieces to this puzzle, a deeper secret-- things that I myself had been caught up in and yet still more that I hadn't had the answers to. Yet, this was my father's office after all— my home. A place I frequented that held innumerable evidence of association. Divulging the information of those reports would mean more than just exploring the Order's corruption.

Nero would definitely demand many answers to many questions. Questions I knew I probably wouldn't be able to answer.

But would he even believe me, in spite of it all? I fought with the idea that perhaps Nero would quickly lose his faith in me— which was something I, admittedly, feared more than anything.

The sudden tickle of Nero's fingers lightly dancing up my lower back, pulled me from my thoughts. Sinking his palm into the small of my back, I was forced to suppress yet another wild moan, that futilely sounded in my throat. With his other hand, he slowly traced his knuckles up, along my neck before cupping my chin between his fingers. Pressing his forehead against mine, he let his thumb trace along my bottom lip as he carefully leaned in.

With his lips drawing ever closer, my heart hammered viciously against my rib cage, as if it were some bird, threatening to break free and betray my secrets— a threat to the integrity of the hidden feelings I'd attempted to mask as well as I was able. Though, now I realized they may have been no true secret to Nero, given the current circumstance. My hand, what had, before, been previously clamped firm against the papers along the desk, had now been resting on his chest, almost desperately clutching at his shirt.

In that moment it was almost impossible to think clearly, as my brain shifted from Nero to the documents. The building heat between us, was rapidly increasing— ensnaring me in a nearly inescapable trap of pleasure. Yet the pressing issue was glaring. Loudly calling forth a great sense of guilt that would not go unpunished. Some part of me was conflicted, despite realizing that I was not the one at fault. But hadn't that still meant that I was betraying his trust if I'd let him just... kiss me?

Our lips were only centimeters apart now. The warmth of his breath mingling with mine, only enticed me further as Nero squeezed me tighter. Despite the growing fog that was quickly settling over me, I gently pressed my palm against his chest to push him away. And when his lips had just lightly brushed against mine, I pushed harder, shoving him back, defiantly.

Now, a new silence fell between us, bringing with it a great discomfort.

Nero stared at me with a look of hurt as shadows fell upon his face now, cutting across his knitted brow. Beneath the crease of darkness, his eyes told me everything he refused to say.

I stared wide eyed at Nero, with a reddened face, firmly clamping my forearm into the valley of my breast. My lips trembled a bit as I tried to find the right words to say. Yet, somehow everything was trapped in my chest, boiling at the cusp of my throat. When words finally did begin to manifest at my lips, Nero flinched a bit, like he was afraid of what I would tell him. And so he hurried out of the room, looking more embarrassed and ashamed than he should have.

"Nero wait!" I shouted, chasing after him.

But, when I made it to the front door, he was gone and the bags along with him.

**Devil May Cry: The Furtive Strain**

**Chapter 04**

**Resounding Tension**

I gazed on, stunned at the electric blue claws that had partially forced their way past a bit of Nero's coat sleeve. His wide eyes, on the other hand, looked to me a bit fearful and apprehensive. His expression mirroring that look of astonished hurt, he showed me all those months back. Though, he seemed like he was waiting for me to react— waiting for me to say something but, I was at a complete loss for words.

A demonic, arm? I probably wouldn't have believed it if it hadn't been right in front of me. But, how on earth could someone sustain serious injuries, only for them to heal into... well... _that_. I wondered, now, if maybe Nero had feigned ignorance all this time and knew something about the secrets of the Order. Yet, even that seemed ridiculous given his attitude towards demons and religion as a whole. Despite that, he was still at the bottom rung, kept out of the loop and only used as a pawn, just like everyone else.

No. This was definitely unrelated but...

Nero suddenly pushed past me when the silence dragged on, his face cracked with pain.

Not wanting the rift between us to grow any further, I thoughtlessly reached out for him, frantically turning and making a grasp for the wrist of his demonic arm and in my haste I hadn't realized what I'd done. Nero flinched aggressively and spun on me with a dangerous look in his eyes as he shirked my hand from his.

I recoiled, stunned at his reaction as an unintentional gasp, escaped me. Clamping my hand firmly against my chest, I could feel my heart threatening to hammer a hole right through as Nero gazed on at me like he was waiting for words of malice to flow out of my mouth. As though the glare in his eyes would deter me from speaking at all.

"W-what's with you!?" I shouted out, my voice cracking fearfully as I spoke.

I was scared. But not of, Nero. While he'd never been rough with me, ever, it wasn't as if it hadn't been warranted. We were close but distant. And even though he was right in front of me, his expression only defined the miles that splayed out between us. Unfortunately that small gesture of aggression quickly reminded me of something else, taking me back to a time when I was young. When honesty was punished and retaliation was admonished.

Wait. Stop thinking of that, right now...This isn't then.

"How... How dare you!" I tried again, firmly clenching my hand into a fist. "Would you really believe that I'd be so shallow? You're always so quick to slip away but, what are you even running away from? At least give me a chance to figure out my feeling's, dammit! I've known you this long, and I care about you far too deeply, for.... _this_ to change anything— to change how I feel about you…" I gesticulated at his hand, my face going red now, as I was slowly losing my cool. "What did you think, that I was going to throw obscenities in your face? Call you a demon and turn my back on you?"

This wasn't even just about his arm at this point. It was more than that now. I thought about what would happen if Nero found out about me— about the things I knew and had done and turned a blind eye to because they were completely out of my hands. The guilt was killing me and it didn't help that it all ultimately tied back to what happened a year ago in my father's office. It's not a question of whether I did or not... I hurt Nero and it was the exact opposite of what I'd been trying to do. And obviously, I can't take back what happened. But all of this only made me realize that I'd been walking on eggshells with him for so long.

"But I am a demon..." Nero finally said, quietly. His glare melted away as his eyes softened, drifting towards the bright blue glow that emanated from his right side. Carefully, he rolled up his sleeve and lifted his arm until it was in full view. As he closed the space between us, I was able to get a better look at it. Colors of red and dark blue streaked up his forearm. It's radiance wasn't as bright as it had been in the moments prior, but hadn't been so extreme that it was unbearable to look at.

"Isn't that what this means?"

"...Who cares." I said curtly.

"Peyton, seriousl--"

"I _am_ being serious."

I looked directly into his eyes for the first time in such a long time. I understood what he'd felt, fully and completely. My situation wasn't so different from his, if at all. Fortuna was attacked by demons on a regular basis. Having one living amongst the people, knowingly would complicate things. Yet the only person who ever really mattered when all it came down to it, was him. I trusted Nero but, I suppose I couldn't blame him if he didn't feel the same.

"This..." I carefully took his hand in both of mine, bringing it down between us. "Is only on the outside. You're still you. Hopefully having a fancy new arm isn't going to change that." Then I grinned at him a little. "So long as you stay your whiny self, I don't care what you are or what form you take. You'll always be the most human person to me."

It took him a moment, but eventually Nero let a soft chuckle drift from his lips. His blue eyes were clear now yet, he still looked at me with uncertainty.

"But if I am a demon..." His pause was filled by the loud movements of his hands, both drawing up towards my face. “Is that... Is that what you want?"

"...What I... want?" I echoed breathless. A lump was quickly growing in my throat, as the room suddenly felt like it was spinning. I tried deciphering those words in my head, figuring that maybe he'd gathered more than I'd given him with what I'd said, alone. I was so lost in the ambiguity of his words that I flinched at the touch of his knuckles as they gently grazed my cheeks. And of course, he took this the wrong way, halting in his movements as he stared intently into my face, trying to read my expression. But for lack of knowing what to say, I remained silent.

For a moment longer, I stared up into his eyes as I grasped at the failing words that attempted to escape my lips. All I had to say, was that I didn't care. That I was a demon myself and it never mattered to begin with. But I was then reminded of the reports I'd seen back in my father's office all those months ago, and the guilt recaptured me.

Unsteadily, I leaned away from Nero before taking a small step back. Immediately I regretted this, but Nero didn't take it like I thought he would. Instead he awkwardly moved his hands away from me, lowered them, as his expression dimmed.

"Never mind." He said, quickly, turning away from me. "We should get moving. We've got a long way to go before we reach Fortuna Castle..."

It goes without saying that I felt beyond awful. But just as I was prepared to inwardly berate myself, my eyes scanned the room, for the second floor and I noticed something that would further inconvenience our ascent.

"...There are no stairs." I uttered, into the silence.

Nero noticed this as well, looking about us now, a tight sigh escaping his lips before he turned to his right arm. His blue palm, glowed gently in the dim room. He stared into it, flexing his fingers as though something had occurred to him.

Suddenly, he caught me firmly against him, his left arm, wrapped tightly around my waist. Before I could blink, an enormous, ghostly apparition of his demon arm, appeared just in time to snatch us up towards the second story— his spectral arm, grabbing tightly onto the ledge as we were shot into the air.

My eyes bugged a bit, as I realized our problem had been quite unceremoniously solved.

Nero let me go before I could realize how tightly he'd been holding me as he silently moved ahead. I was... eager to ask questions but thought against it. Though I wondered how many more surprises would be in store as we continued to our destination.

* * * * *

Our trek along the skywalk above the city was uneventful but not totally quiet as the muffled sounds of demons on the ground beneath us, laughed and raged through the streets. We silently pushed forwards, through the roof tops and down into the residential district where the orange light of the sun flushed against the stucco home complexes. The older part of the town had been the coziest. And even more so when the sun's rays hit the buildings at the right angle, when it had been setting low in the sky-- dancing off the clothes lines, structures and cages that lined the highs and lows of the alley.

Food crates had been either stacked or toppled, their contents lying squashed and forsaken in the dirt. The homes, once sprawling with life and the hustle and bustle of the young and the old now completely abandoned, with just the smallest indications that human life had in fact, once, resided here—their presence not too long ago having been ushered off in a hurry.

It was more than a relief that there were no bodies, signs of wounded, or those who might be left behind. The demons, tended to be ruthless in the face of the helpless.

Sadly the same couldn't be said for what had already come to pass along the streets.

And then, I remembered the cadets Credo had assigned to me and I only hoped they'd safely made it back to headquarters. Cadwell had not returned to the Opera House with any of them in sight. That thought alone was enough to worry me, since I had not a shred of trust for the weasel. What concerned me more, was that he'd been acting strangely phlegmatic since the day prior. I mean, it wasn't as though he was easy to anger but, he was far too overly confident, almost... untouchable.

That was until Credo denied his being my partner for this mission.

In fact he had seemed a bit_ too_ enthusiastic about pairing up.

For a moment, I turned away from my thoughts to stare off at the old, stripped down windmill that silently whistled, as it's turbines turned with the gently passing winds. The sharp jagged cliff along the valley cut into the reddening sky as the whisping clouds over head hung meekly in the air. Not even as we passed through Fortuna's shipping yard, did the egging thoughts dismiss, as I found my pace slow to a halt—my gaze cast out like a net, into the sea, searching for the answers like the fishermen, did fish. The deep, gurgling blue waters only seemed to froth and churn with endless worries that constantly washed ashore.

Something wasn't right. Despite the obvious things that stirred withing the Order's walls, something else was stewing— Something, I'd most likely been kept from. When I thought back to Credo and Cadwell's hushed conversation, I only felt deep dread. Even worse than what I often felt. And when my eyes fell back along Nero, I couldn't help but feel suddenly nauseous.

I tried to let that feeling subside as we strode into the mining area, past the Port. The cresting sun on the horizon vanishing behind us, as we fell into darkness. The sound of the dampened earth that squelched beneath our feet, forced the silence around us to grow deeper, further feeding the disquieted thoughts.

We'd been walking for a few hours now, and neither of us had said a word. While not unusual, the tension in the air was... definitely there. I knew our issues hadn’t been fully resolved. And I wanted to give Nero the response he'd deserved earlier, but I knew better than that. I was certain I only wounded him further with what he might have felt was false hope. Talking to him was never difficult before all this mess, so why on earth was I struggling now?

Slowly I gathered the courage was we walked past an electric lamp that hung along the dirt wall. It's faint blue light, reminded me of Nero's arm, and I couldn't help but stare.

"That man in red..." I finally spoke, my words, absorbing into the damp walls around us. "Did he really kill... my father?"

Nero's footsteps came to a stop and I echoed his actions, looking, once more, at the back of his head. He'd slightly turned and I managed to catch his eye-- His expression offering uncertain commiseration.

"Yeah... he did." He spoke quietly. "...You sure you'll be okay?"

"I never said I wouldn't." A terrible response, I'm aware, but my annoyance was not with him. It was with the man, who allowed himself to get killed. "That man. He ran into my party before the attack."

"What?" Nero had fully turned now, his expression, puzzled.

"He said he was looking for someone. I didn't think It would be His Holiness. But, the timing of his appearance alongside the demon attack were pretty coincidental. Despite the extra excitement that came with him, I’m pretty sure he’s acting independent of the horde that occurred in the streets.”

"Maybe he isn’t, and he’s using it as a way to cover his tracks?" Nero suggested.

"Definitely not." I looked at him. "He didn't necessarily seem like the type to care either way."

"I guess. But a motive would have been nice." Nero resumed walking once again, and the two of us kept pace as we conversed. "Something about him was just strange. He said we all had something in common. Like hell, we do. I’d be damned if I knew what he was talkin’ about."

He would if he knew I was a demon...

"And then there's Fortuna Castle." I said, trying to mask my apprehension. "Why would he head there, after taking out his target?"

"Yeah... something about Cadwell's _intel_, reeks. But I can’t say that would be much of a surprise, really. Still, something’s up for sure… He was acting different than normal, too. What was all that with him earlier, anyway?"

I suppose he was referring to Cadwell's being a little too touchy. "No idea..." I grumbled, not wanting to discuss it further. "And hopefully nothing too entertaining is waiting for us at the Castle."

I wanted to say more on Credo, but Nero's relationship with him, was similar to mine. Albeit, his might have been a bit closer with the two being adoptive brothers. And despite what I wanted, I had to believe something was amiss with his dealings in the Order. Credo had been my father's right hand— his most trusted and loyal knight and general. I shouldn't be so naive but, I couldn't help it.

The warm damp air from the mining area continued to flush against my face as we marched onward. Nearing the exit, it mixed and churned with the fresh, cool autumn night— the darkening sky was now black, purple and blood orange with the sun, a blotch of red, that sat glowing on the distant horizon as it melted from sight.

Finally, we'd made it to the Ferrum Hills, the city's distant mining town and trade center. To say it looked abandoned, was truth, but that was where the truths end. Old rickety shops stood the test of time, their signs violently swaying against the now warming winds that slowly picked up, passing through the dusty street. My eyes, followed the dusty wind trail to an enormous, monolithic, black slab of stygian and obsidian materials, towering to heights that rivaled even sky scrapers. Etched with large, intricate markings, the thing gave off the most unpleasant of vibes. But that was perhaps, in part because the massive erection of foreboding was a Hell Gate, which served as a pathway to and fro the demon world.

I frowned at the thing in the distance, another tug of guilt manifesting in my gut.

Suddenly the air grew steadily hotter, and the world around us began to tremble. The Hell Gate itself, began to boil and melt, turning molten red. Within seconds, lava erupted from the obelisk, spewing from it not only superheated rock but an enormous creature as well. It shot, out in a streak of fire, sailing over our heads before landing right in front of us.

The creature, a demon of course, held the appearance of a lions body and head. But, where the neck of the creature should have been, sprouted the torso of a humanoid man. It let out a bone rattling roar, as it strutted around a bit, throwing little flames and cinders. They landed just about anywhere, touching upon the shops around us, setting fire to the structures, that cracked and hissed from the surging blaze.

The demon then turned, heading down the path we'd come, it's enormous molten face housing large tusks that sprouted from its jaw, shooting just over his head almost like horns. It's mane, a stony home of active volcanoes. With its every step, the ground trembled as it dragged an enormous molten sword of magma, that seemed to be cooling and reheating at the demon's will.

"The human world..." The demon grumbled from above, its voice just as intruding as it's footsteps. Though it did not stop when it came to pass us. "It's been a while."

Nero and I exchanged knowing glances before making an advance. With a sigh, Nero swung out his blade, letting it loudly clang against the hot earth at his feet. An in one swift motion, he swept his blade through the dirt, picking up a powerful wind that gusted along the shops in the creatures wake. It forced the buildings to creak and groan but, more importantly it caught the attention of the demon towering above.

It stopped a second, finally noticing us before it, let go a hum that felt like a low earthly rumble. "Ah, humans. How curious... Yet there were none such as the like as yourself when I visited the world last, 2,000 years ago."

"2,000?" Nero, pursed his lips as he nodded, feigning being impressed. "Damn, that's a long time. How about we double up?"

"Silence!!" The demon bellowed angrily and in one swift movement for a creature so large, it brought down, its enormous molten sword, right on top of us.

Dirt and flames flew up into the air, as the two of us darted out of the way. Nero moved in first, firing a bullet that went zipping across the blistering heat before he nailed the big guy right between the eyes. Staggering back on its four legs, the thing hissed and spat with annoyance and a quiver of chuckles escaped its throat.

"Futile Pest!!" The demon roared. "You will suffer the wrath of Berial! The Conquer of the Fire Hell!!"

Not waiting for the chance, I leapt up on to the smelting hot sword and raced up the blade, my own trailing behind me. Leaping over the handguard and onto the demon's knuckles, I surged up its arm, before landing a round kick straight into its jaw. Then held on, thrusting my blade into Berial's shoulder as he hobbled out at the force of the kick. I quickly followed this up, by raking my blade across the side of his face, the loud, pained grunts were indication that I was barely doing him any real harm.

Annoyed, the demon's hand was fast approaching as it made a grab for me. I ducked beneath the giant's palm as it sailed overhead and dove down at its chest, sinking my blade into it scorching skin. Berial roared in pain as I used my weight, dragging my blade down along its abdomen, spewing lava from the fresh wound like blood all around me.

Swinging off the grip of my blade, I flew through the air, my sights set on the behemoths opposing shoulder. Though, sadly, this was not to be as his hand shot back around, and clasped me tightly in its grip. It's hot hands burned but not enough to bother me as it brought me closer to its face.

"You're strong." He grumbled, his flaming orbs of yellow fire, seared holes in my vision. "But you die here!"

His roar was followed up by him raising his fist into the air as he prepared to slam me into the dirt below. But a streak of blue flared across my vision and promptly, Berial's roars became howls of pain. Suddenly I was falling, alongside Nero and a set of five, enormous, molten fingers. Grasping my hand tight, he thrust me back up towards the demon's face where I plummeted my blade into his skull, just above his brow. It hadn't gone too deep, but enough so that I was able to hang on as he thrashed about in pain. Releasing my nine inch blade, I slashed it across his eye and he continue to thrash and whine some more before I dropped to the ground below.

I rolled and leapt out of the danger zone of Berial’s feet as he thrashed about angrily. Streaks of fire surged past me as Nero dashed around it the demons ankles, sending fiery attacks into its already burning flesh.

I ran out from beneath the oh, so great Berial, darting out to his rear. But before I could do any damaged he turned on me. And with his only capable hand, he gripped his large sword tighter than before as he swept his blade across the dirt. I ducked the attack, skidding to a halt as it flew over my head. But he was fast now, driving his sword at me, thrusting angrily, trying to skewer me. Evading was simple as his moves were predictable. But that was only until he began sweeping the blade back and forth through the gravel. I evaded into the air, leaping off the end of his blade and tried once more to get up close to his head, but Berial wasn't having it as he swatted me out of my line of trajectory with the back of his fingerless hand.

I sailed through the hot night air, fast and hard, before crashing into the roof of one of the blazing shops. The roar of the flames, nearly drowning out the sound of Nero's cries after me. Followed by this was sharp laughter that cut through the choking air what threatened to suffocate me.

Quickly I attempted to get up but, pain shot through my shoulder as I did. Dropping my eyes, I discovered it to be impaled by a protruding wooden spoke. Hissing angrily at the new wound, I grasped the piece of wood in my palm, and purple voltage sparked to life, reducing it to ashes. One problem solved, I jumped to my feet before swiping my blade through the rubble and flames, and a wave of electricity danced before me, singeing through the rubble and debris, instantly clearing a path for my escape.

I surged out into the slightly cooler night air to find Nero holding his own. With Berial already having been at a disadvantage, being partially blind and permanently right handed, he had no trouble taking the fight as he darted around, missing all the demon's attempts to cut him through. Evading, he rolled beneath an attack, reaching Berial’s underside and hiking him up with a quick thrust of his Demon arm.

The large ghostly apparition like duplicate, was triple the size of it his own. It radiated brightly, mimicking his movements as he swiped through the air. Though Berial didn't take too well to being tossed around as he howled angrily whence he landed on the ground with a great thud that shook the earth.

Enraged and ashamed, he recovered fast enough to sloppily launch himself at Nero who effortlessly evaded. His blade trailed behind him in a fiery arc as his eyes quickly shifted to me. I rushed to meet him, crashing my sword into his massive one and threw up his guard, completely stunning the large beast. As his blade surged into the night sky, I shot towards him in a line of voltage that left a burning trail of sparks behind me. Moving fast, I zipped up his abdomen, spiraling viciously along the creature with both sword and short blade in hand— a fresh new wound opening up along its torso. Berial’s cries only rose in volume as I hurtled from his body, arcing into the air before landing back on his shoulder. Having dropped onto him with all of my weight and power, the great Berial's knees buckled, and he nearly toppled before I leapt into his back, dragging both my blades into his molten skin.

The demon's shouts of pain reached peak volume now and suddenly I was ripped from my spot between his shoulder blades. In agitation, he pitched me across the Ferrum Hills, only this time I was sent flying faster, harder and farther than just a few shop's distance away.

The sounds of Nero shouting my name while I rocketed out of sight, faded almost instantly as I surged through the warm to chilly air. The immediate drop in temperature caused my body to suddenly explode in a fit of electric tension that burst across my vision and just like that, my "battery" if I could, was drained in an instant. A great uncomfortable pressure settled along my chest, right as the sickening sound of my neck popping out of place and my skull cracking against a solid wall of rock was quickly chased by the blanket of darkness that immediately ensnared me in a painless slumber.

Nero's small face consumed my vision when I looked up. His bright blue eyes peering curiously down at the craft in my hand.

"Is that... supposed to be a collar?" He'd asked.

My eight year old hands fumbled along the crudely made neck piece, scrounged together from bits of rubber band and stray plastics. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I stared up at Nero annoyed.

"No. It's not!" I lied, dragging it off the table top and hiding it in my lap.

"You've got an allowance from the community service we did last week. Why not just use it for that." Nero suggested, furrowing his brows.

I sighed, staring out the third story window of the orphanage playroom. While that had already occurred to me, I had bigger plans for the money. "I'm trying to save it, to make a better home for Mr. Scruffles."

Nero's face seemed to only twist further in confusion. "What's wrong with the bush?"

"Nothing!" I said a bit loudly, frustrated. "But I want to ask the director, if we can keep him. That way we won't have to hide him anymore... I want to play with him whenever I want, where ever I want."

Silence quickly took over the room now as Nero seemed to be thinking. He'd held his chin in his little hand as though he were coming up with a sort of plan. His light eyes catching the evening sun as they glanced around at the floor.

Staring at him then, I thought back to when I'd first decided to be more friendly to him. Those same eyes that had once been sad and lonely, were now more vibrant. While his icy stare had remained, it thawed a bit over time. And though he was still pretty cold and distant when it came to just about anyone else, I was glad enough that he'd warmed up to me-- even if that hadn't completely been his choice in the beginning.

“Ah just forget it…” I said, standing from the table. “The collar he’s got now is fine. I’ll figure something out eventually. Let’s go play with him!”

“But wait, Peyton. Telling the Director _is_ a good idea.” Nero said, stopping me in my tracks.

“Yeah…” I agreed. “But what if she says no? Then we’ll have to get rid of him. And you know what adults do to animals they get rid of. They unitize them!”

“Unitize?” Nero repeated the word like he wasn’t sure that was the correct pronunciation.

“It means they kill the animal.” I pouted. “And I don’t want that to happen to Mr. Scruffles.”

“I know... but, if someone found him now, then won’t he still be--”

“No one’s gonna find him!” I assured, as we headed out of the room. Our voice turned hushed as we ran through the corridors.

But younger me hadn’t yet learned what a jinx was…

Nero and I headed for the courtyard, where everyone had been busy, groups of the younger kids entangled in their own individual games that would only last until the final moments of day light. The warm sun cast its orange rays into the orphanage piazza, surrounded by its four cardinal wings, glowing along the varying surfaces.

Taking note of the matrons chatting away, I rushed to the small stoned in rose garden what sat beneath its glass canopy, where Mr. Scruffles had been hidden away—My heart bouncing in my chest, already so excited to hold him.

Though sadly, when we made it to the spot, my heart dropped from its joyous ball game and cast itself into the pit of my stomach when my eyes fell upon the sight before me.

There, in the back of the small garden, near the rose bush where I kept Mr. Scruffles, had been the scrawny boy with the pale, blond hair… Charlie Cadwell. His bright brown eyes seemed to glow maliciously from within the curtain of bangs that hung across his face. His eyes were wild, like he’d scored a rare find. Surrounded by him, of course were the boys who’d always done so. Tall and bulky, they seemed to dwarf Cadwell in comparison.

"Mr. _Screw…fless_?? What sort of a dumb name is that?" One of the bigger boys remarked, laughing to himself. The other quickly joining in as they crowded around the rabbit, jeering at the old collar I’d made.

"Stop touching him!!" I yelled furiously, marching over towards the group. Only Nero was quick to yank me back before I could attempt to let my fist fly. “He’s mine!”

"Oh! Look who’s here!" Cadwell chimed. His eyes turning a scary shade of orange against the sun’s light that poured in from above. “I thought it was a bit strange for a rodent to have a little set up all on its own. I never would have guessed this thing belonged to you, of all people. Too bad though, children of whores don’t deserve nice things! ‘Specially not pets!”

All of the boys laughed now, their toothy grins of missing teeth all bared at me like laughing hyenas. Between all of them, I bet they only had fifteen teeth.

Instantly, my blood did more than boil, as a feeling of a bomb going off in my chest got my feet moving towards the party. “You Slimy Little_ Rats!!”_ I shouted, wrathfully as I made another attempt to get at them.

But once again Nero pulled me back by my wound up shoulder. He gently spoke my name. Though his grip contrasted greatly as he firmly squeezed my arm tight. Without words, he was trying to calm me. But how on earth could I do something like that when these disgusting rats, had their hands on my rabbit.

“He's _mine!!"_ I hollered, struggling now as Nero threw his arms around me while I fought to get at Cadwell. "Give Him Back!!"

“Peyton, no.” Nero’s tone was tight as he dragged me back a bit before turning me around to face him. He squeezed my shoulders harder now in his small hands. Looking hard into my eyes, he tried once more to wordlessly convince me to back down. A serious yet uneasy expressions was fixed along his face.

"But Nero!" I argued. I was on the verge of crying now as I stared into his eyes. My nose stung and my throat clamped up. Fighting back the tears was growing increasingly impossible.

"Awww, is the wittle baby gonna cwy? Hah! You should listen to the peasant while you both are still standing!" Charlie smirked.

He then turned to one of his bigger boys who’d been holding Mr. Scruffles, and exchanged a look with him. And as if they’d come to some sort of an agreement in those seconds of eye contact, the big boy moved his large hand to Mr. Sruffles’s neck and squeezed unnecessarily tight.

I began to scream, pulling away from Nero. "No don’t-!"

"Try anything, and the rabbit goes bye-bye!" The boy said.

I stared him down hard. I wouldn't let up. But Nero drew me back. "C'mon." He whispered. "Let's just go. They'll probably hide it or leave it there. It’s not like they’re smart enough to actually do anything. It’s all a big bluff. We'll come back later and--"

"No!!" I squealed finally breaking free of Nero's grasp, making a mad dash for my rabbit.

But Cadwell’s boy was too fast. He snapped Mr. Scruffles neck so quick I didn't have time to gasp.

And of course he laughed. And he got his boys to laugh too.

"Mr. Scruffles!!" I cried out, screaming so hard. I could hardly breathe as the tears immediately followed. I could barely hold back my sobs as I reached out a gentle hand for the now dead rabbit, that lay disfigured in the grass. His neck twisted and bent back as his leg twitched and his wide brown eyes were frozen in terror.

I turned to look up at Nero with tears shamelessly spilling from my eyes as I cried harder. But instead of sharing in my despair, his face had gone a deep shade of red as he snapped in a fit of rage. Running past me, he dashed at the boys taking them and both myself by surprise.

I’ve never once seen Nero lose his cool enough over anything that, it would force him into fighting back.

He went for the one who’d done the deed, throwing his small fist at the older boy. And just with that, everyone got riled up and starting hounding around Nero. I made a quick grab for Mr. Scruffles before his broken body could be trampled and mangled further. But as I looked up to the fight that ensued, Nero had been shoved to the ground, blood spewing from his mouth and nose.

I could hear the matrons now, running towards us and yelling for us to stop.

Sobbing at the sight of Nero, I grew ever angrier, and launched myself into the party to avenge both Nero and my rabbit. My screams seemed to become drowned out in the ocean of shouts and laughter as I rose a hand to smash Cadwell in his dumb face.

But as much as I wanted to it was useless.

One of the big boys easily intercepted my attack, smacking me so hard in the face with his big hand, slobber flew from my lips. The force of the hit flung me to the ground. But I took a detour, slamming my head into the only stone bench that sat along the back wall on the way down.

And instantly, everything went black.

_To Be Continued_


	6. The Growing Divide

"Peyton!"

I inhaled sharply when I heard the wet thud of her head collide with the stone bench. My heart jumped from my stomach and into my throat when I saw the little spatter of blood on the stool’s edge. A sort of painful pull in my gut almost made me want to throw up when she'd stopped moving all together, lying there lifeless on her face in the grass.

"Peyton? Peyton are you okay!?" I asked, Hurrying to her side, pulling her into my lap as best as I could. But what I saw when I flipped her over forced out a strangled noise in my throat that churned the contents of my stomach.

Blood, gushed from her left eye. Right above her brow had been slightly caved from the impact of the fall. Her face was wet with tears from crying as her expression was frozen in a mix of stunned fury. Frantically, I squeezed her shoulder, gently shaking her.

"No..." I choked out through, gritted teeth. "No, no, no noo... Wake **_up_**, Peyton!"

But her dulled eyes, remained frozen and no breaths escaped her parted lips. I glanced towards her side where the strangled rabbit that had once been Mr. Scruffles, lay, just as unmoving and lifeless as she'd been.

"N-no!" I stammered out, pressing my face into to her chest, muffling my rising sobs as the tears swelled at my eyes. "This can't.... It’s not real… you’re okay…"

"I... I'm sorry..." I heard one of the boys from behind me say and it made my blood boil. "I didn't think--"

**_"Look What You Did!!"_** I screamed, my lungs rattling viciously as I squeezed Peyton’s head, protectively against my chest. My eyes, now shooting towards Cadwell and his idiots who all looked stunned and wide eyed, now that the games were over. All of them except, of course, Cadwell, who'd looked like he was grinning. And that only made me angrier. **_"Are You Happy Now, You Freak!?"_**

"What is going on in-- Oh my God!"

"Get the director! You, get the kids inside. _Now_."

Those were the voices of the matrons that were _supposed_ to be watching everyone. They should have caught wind of everything going on sooner. But of course they decided to intervene too late and now...

"What happened?!" The matrons shouted, looking crossly at the group of older boys that stood speechless over me.

Another was already over me, trying to tenderly get me to my feat. "Nero, sweety, let's me--"

**_"NO!!"_** I screamed, holding Peyton tighter, now as the orderly tried to pull her out of my grasp. **_"Don't Touch Her!!" _**My voice broke as I tried to fight. Loud sobs erupted from my throat as I fought against the woman, who should have gotten here earlier-- who should have kept this all from happening in the first place.

But quickly I grew outnumbered, as more house mothers as well as the director showed up to the scene. I kicked and screamed my heart out as they pried me away from Peyton, leaving hers and Mr. Scruffles’s body there in the rose garden as everyone was ushered back inside.

**Devil May Cry: The Furtive Strain**

**Chapter 05**

**The Growing Divide**

** _...~From The Telling of Nero~..._ **

They put me in the time out room.

Not because I'd done anything wrong. But instead, to isolate me from the other kids that still didn't know, nor understand what was going on. And because even after they'd wiped away the blood from my face and put me in a fresh set of clothes, I hadn't stopped fighting and begging to be with Peyton.

I cried for what felt like hours. Cried until my throat was sore and dry. And when I couldn't get any more tears out, I sobbed silently into the couch until I exhausted myself enough to pass out. Though I could never stay asleep. Restless, I always woke up thinking everything had been a bad dream and that I'd see Peyton lying in her bed across the room. But of course it hadn't been a dream and I always woke up, alone.

At some point, the door to the room opened and the Director came in with a sorrowful expression on her face. She looked on at me with such pity I couldn't take it. I just ended up keeping my head down as she talked to me, speaking in that gentle way that grownups do when they're explaining things to you that you might not understand. And it only made me angrier.

"Charlie, told me it was all an accident." The director's voice hummed from above my head. "He said you guys were playing and you got so excited when you all found that rabbit that you started fighting over it. I suppose I do expect that sort of behavior from Charlie and his friends but I can't believe tha--"

"He's lying!" I seethed, balling up my fist tightly at my sides. "They killed her! They _Killed_ Peyton!!"

The Director remained silent. Momentarily stunned as she and I held each other's stare.

"Now, Nero... That is a heavy accusation to pin on someone. Especially a house mate. Cadwell did not... kill… Peyton, sweetheart."

I tore my eyes away, angrily, knowing my words would never reach her.

"It is just as he said. It was an accident. In fact, they're here to apologize; aren't you, boys?"

She stepped aside to reveal the band of the "unruly" ones, standing in the door way, protected in the huddle of the matrons.

What was all that about? Why were they being so... careful and protective of them?

"Boys. Go ahead and say what you need to say."

None of them would meet my gaze as they all guiltily strained at the floor. All except Cadwell, who was slightly grinning at me with those milky brown eyes, dulled in the darkness of the room. His brows were slightly raised and his head tilted forward just a bit—hiding an expression that had only been meant for me.

I imagined that taunting face, coupled with a devious snicker and instantly I knew that if these grownups weren’t here, then this wouldn't be such a tame and apologetic meeting.

"I'm so, so sorry, Nero." Cadwell's voice dripped painfully into my ears. "I didn't realize how aggressive you were going to be."

What?

Then, a practiced frown slipped across his face and I knew, just what he'd told them.

"At first, I thought you were only fooling around. But then.. when things got worse--"

"He's lying!" I shouted. "I didn't start any of this!"

"Then what about Dean's swollen eye?" One of the matrons demanded.

The boy in question, the one I'd went for at the start of it all, stepped out of the little posse. Still refusing to look at me, he stood under the faded light, presenting a gleaming sore that swelled bright red just above his cheek.

Blood shot straight to my eyes as I stared at the bruise. I clenched my hands and gritted my teeth as I looked on, incredulously at the flock of dummies before me.

"He's changing what happened!" I protested.

"But you did hit him, yes?" A matron countered, stepping a bit closer.

"Why does that matter?? I'm not the one who did that to Peyton!"

"It's just as I've said before." The Director spoke gently as she moved towards me. The other Matrons began to close in while Cadwell's little group was quietly and carefully being pulled out of the room.

"It was an accident. Things got out of hand and you didn't mean to--"

"Me?!" I spat, my heart racing furiously now. My eyes stung as I looked to all the faces accusing me for what happened. "You're blaming me for this!? I'd never hurt Peyton! Not even on accident!"

"This is more than just about Peyton, my dear. We don't start fights no matter how upset we are." The Director cooed.

"Then maybe you should make a rule about not killing animals and each other!"

"Now that’s enough." She said, her voice going stern as she grabbed my wrist.

In defiance, I lurched away and dove for the door.

"Watch him!" A voice shouted from behind me.

But Cadwell was never my objective as I darted down the corridor. I ran fast and hard, my lungs burning now as new tears spilled from my eyes. My ragged breaths escaping into the night air, betraying the pain that raged in my chest.

And it was like my legs moved on their own, thrusting me back to the place I least and most wanted to be.

I sat huddled into the nook between the rose bush and stone wall—The place where Peyton kept Mr. Scruffles. It was cold and frigid. The dirt beneath me, sinking in between my bare toes as I sat there, quietly sobbing while I hugged my legs against my chest.

The blood stains from earlier still bitterly clinging to the places Peyton had landed. Seeing them only made it hurt more—that squeezing pain that made it hard to breathe.

I didn't want this.

I didn't want to feel this pain and I didn't want to believe Peyton was gone.

From my spot I could hear the matrons calling out for me, their gentle voices a ploy to ease me out of hiding.

In that moment, I hated everyone. Hated how they could so easily believe Cadwell and his lies and shift the blame on me. And even as that was the case, I didn't care what they said about me. But if Peyton was involved, I refused to let anyone say it was my fault.

I just wanted... to protect her.

After all, I'd never seen her cry and especially never seen her look so hurt. She always braved through a cut, laughed through a bad fall and stood up to the adults if she had to. She was always grinning at me or teasing me. And if she ever got annoyed by anything, she'd stave it off with a playful or sarcastic grimace.

Before she forced her way into my everyday life, I didn't really care about or even consider getting close to any of the kids here. What was the point if we got adopted? Chances are that we'd never see each other again... And I hated how I had turned out to be right, only for the circumstances to be way worse than getting taken away by adoptive parents.

My throat clamped up at the realization that the last look I got to see on her face was a hurt one. If she were here right now, I know she'd punch me in the shoulder and chew me out for hiding in the bushes. She'd nag me to use my words and just like that day she stood up for me, fight back.

If I wasn't so tired and upset, I'd smile at the memory—the idea of her just being here and finding me like she always did. And as I squeezed myself tight, letting my drowsy mind collapse in on my heart, I decided I'd try one more time in the morning to stand my ground—for Peyton's sake.

When morning did come I was greeted by the sounds of the other kids playing in the courtyard. And that in itself felt awfully cruel when considering the events that took place just yesterday. But upon listening closer, I noted the voices hadn't been kids playing.

Instead, my name was being tossed around, by the holler’s and shouts of the little kids. Immediately I figured that maybe the Director had come up with the idea, hoping it would force me out of hiding.

Quietly, I rose from my spot, sneaking out of the rose garden. The slapping of my bare feet echoed loudly along the stone floor of the upper walkway that hung over the courtyard.

I was surprised to find the halls empty as I made my way to the sleeping quarters.

I wasn't really sure what I thought I was going to find. Maybe Peyton sitting on her bed, fumbling with that home-made collar she'd been working on yesterday—the one I watched her stuff into her dress pocket right before everything had happened. But, of course this sort of wishful thinking wasn't to be as I was met with the face, of someone I least cared for. The older boy who I'd managed to land a solid punch in the eye. And the same one that shoved Peyton.

He sat there on the edge of his bed, his head craned sideways at the sight of me as I walked into the room.

"... The Director's looking for you..." He said somberly, his eyes drifted away from me as he stared listlessly into some corner of the room.

"Well gee, I never would've figured that out." I snapped, angrily at him. "As if I was dumb enough to just go right to her after last night!"

"You’d be dumb if you didn’t..." He mumbled.

Anger bubbled inside me, propelling my legs forwards as I stomped over to him. Glaring down at the kid, I struggled to restrain myself as heat crept back into my eyes.

"All this happened because you guys think everything is just one big stupid game!" I seethed, my voice tight in my throat as I spoke quietly, not daring to let my anger get the better of me. I didn't want to be blamed for anything else. "If you'd just use your... stupid heads for one second, you'd--"

"I know." The older boy cut me off. His heavy voice tore into the silence, almost like a dog sending out a warning bark. He then stood up from the edge of the bed, his back still facing me as he talked. "But I guess I should've use mine sooner. Way before yesterday. I'm sorry about Peyton. And I'm sorry about what CC said about you. "

…CC?

He turned to face me with tired eyes to that showed he'd probably had just about as much sleep as I did. "I told the Director the truth—every last bit. You're name's cleared. They don't suspect you for starting that figh—"

"And that's it?!" I shot back. "I'm supposed to be happy about that?? Peyton's still **_gone!"_** I clenched my hands, tightly at my sides, fighting every muscle in my legs to keep myself rooted to the ground. "She's... not... She's not--!"

A hand touched my shoulder and I flinched. I turned my head upwards to find the Director had been stood over me, a pitying frown, lining her lips. Despising that look to the core of my being, my eyes shot to the floor before she decided to usher my out of the room. This time, I didn't bother resisting.

Instead, I followed her to the office where kids often met with parents-to-be where she explained everything that had happened when I ran off last night. She said, that Cadwell and his dumb cronies _(my words, not hers)_ confessed that they had started the fight. Something about how they found the rabbit and had no idea how to handle it. Thus, ending up accidentally killing it, which started the pointing of fingers and the fight ensued. Peyton, apparently tried to help reason with everyone, getting in the way and accidentally got shoved and the rest was history.

A bad taste like a rotten apple settled across my tongue as I listened silently to the clearly made up story.

"I want to apologize for not believing you last night." She said.

To which I gave her no response.

"The real reason, I wanted you here was because yesterday, after the accident, Peyton was rushed to the hospital. We weren't sure of what her condition would be like until the doctors got back with us-- which they had this morning. They called to let us know that Peyton is in stable condition. She's alive and well..."

My heart seemed to stop for a second, as her words drifted away. Something in her tone, indicating that the news wasn't entirely good. I managed to look up at her, with wide eyes, gripping the pant leg at my knees with bated breath. It wasn't until about an hour later when I finally understood what she'd meant when she gave me the word "Comatose."

** _…Present Day…_ **

To be able to witness the dazzling display of Peyton slicing up the oh, so, great Berial, into molten ribbons was a delight no man should ever be able to hold any testimony to. Yet there I stood, catching her zip terrifyingly around the giant demon, dual wielding her blades with horrific grace and agility I admit, I could never match. The moment she became a literal vortex of lightning, zipping up the thing’s body and shooting into the air before slamming down on to him with an earth shattering tremor, electrifying chills sparked and fizzed wildly in the pit of my stomach. The only reason I stood aside, watching, after she so graciously stepped back in to the fight, was to stay out of her way. She seemed more annoyed with the big beast batting her around, from what I could sense of her suddenly turning serious. So I wasn't one to come between her and the kill.

But when Berial, started howling like a little bitch, because he couldn't take the heat. He snatched Peyton off of him in one angry swipe and chucked her off the playing field.

And I literally mean, _off_ the playing field.

Watching Peyton get punted through the air, was the opposite of a spectacle and the veins behind my eyes nearly burst as I watched helplessly as she sailed far out into the night sky, crashing into the side of the lower mountain.

"Peyton!!" I screamed after her, knowing she couldn't well hear me—it was more out of shock and reflex than anything.

I turned on Berial now, the anger creasing its way through my chest was boundless, but I more than stunned to find that he'd been set ablaze.

"While I was wrong to quickly assume that you two bore the blood of humans, another moment longer in this world will swiftly assure a defeat most humiliating!"

"Hey!!" I shouted after him as his body smoldered, flaking ashes into the air as he morphed into an explosive blaze that shot columns of fire into the night sky. Not even a second later, he zipped through the air in a violent flurry towards the enormous black erection of the mountainous slab, melting into it and vanishing with no trace that he'd ever been there...

Save for the entire mining town having been reduced to rubble and ashes.

I sucked my teeth, turning briskly around, not bothering to worry about the desecration of the Ferrum Hills. I saw the spot where Peyton might have ended up. It was just a bit off from the next mining area. The only thing I had to worry about was getting to her before she froze to death. And I didn't want it to be wishful thinking that she could have already met a worser fate.

** _…Back to The Past…_ **

Peyton was alive...

But she wasn't awake.

She lay in the bed, with bandages, wrapped securely around her head and left eye. A mask sat over her mouth as they said it was supposed to help her breathe. Propped up in the bed, she looked uncomfortable as her dark eyebrows seemed to gently knit together, like she was having some sort of bad dream. The beeping of the machine, drowned out the voices of the director and the nurse talking in hushed voice just outside the door. But not so much so that I couldn't make out their chatter as they whispered about "how hard I was taking it."

I stared silently at Peyton's face, unable to do much anything else as I my heart seemed to thunder in my chest. The rise and fall of hers, was comforting as her shallow breaths spilled out of the mask that straddled her face. If she was just sleeping, all I had to do was wait for her to wake up. That's what the nurses and the doctors said.

And they said that every time I visited, afterwards.

"She's been doing so well." They'd say.

"She seems really happy that you've come to visit her today." They'd muse.

"She's sure to wake up, before you even know it!" They'd coo.

But with every visit, the chances of her even opening her eyes, seemed more and more like a distant possibility. The excitement I'd felt that first day I'd visited her was dulled by the weeks that shuffled by. I almost couldn't remember the days that dragged on before visitation day arrived. The slow weeks I began to drift through, seemed to dim further, when I walked into the room and found that Peyton's eyes were still closed. What once was excitement, just at the fact that she was alive, was now a miserable tightness, that gripped my chest like that night I thought I lost her forever.

And as the weeks continued to shoot by, I wondered, what made this any different?

"I'd say she got what she deserved." Cadwell hissed at me, one day as I'd come back to the orphanage from a trip to see her. "Peasant's should know their place."

His quiet laughs followed him down the corridor, as he ran off quickly before anyone could catch us together. His dull blonde hair, bounced against his neck, blending into his plain tattered shirt.

By that point I'd gone back to the quiet kid that didn't bother arguing if someone decided they need to rejuvenate their self-esteem at my expense. But that hadn't mattered, as things were about to change for me.

It was one day when I found myself walking the halls of the ICU, the letters burned along the white glistening walls a light blue. The nurse, apparently watching me, probably thought a gloomy orphan like myself needed a break from staring at the floor of his coma patient friend's room and sent me off with two quarters to get a snack from the vending machine. Pushing the buttons and watching the machine eat the money, I knelt forward and retrieved a juice box from the bin.

I didn't go right back to Peyton's room though. Instead, I headed to the kid's sitting room that was spotted with empty chairs. The small tv in the corner silently played some cartoon I'd never get the privilege of enjoying later, so I let my eyes stare blankly at the black box. The cold drink in my hand remained unopened, sweating in my palms and staining my pant leg with its condensation.

"_Helloooo_!" A soft voice faded into my ears growing louder by the second.

I blinked and looked up to find a girl with a soft face, giggling down at me. Her light brown eyes matched her coppery hair—the sun washing it a pale pink in its afternoon light.

"You must be really out of it." She laughed a bit, taking a seat next to me before glancing at the TV where a character was yelling at another who'd burst into a fit of hysterical tears. "This your favorite show?"

"N-no..." I said quietly, my voice being forced from my lips as I sat there gently shaking my head. "I don't know what this is."

"Hmm... You don't look like a patient. What's your name?" She asked, her feathery voice floating into my ears as she leaned closer.

I leaned away, not trying to make eye contact as I wondered if girls were always this pushy.

"Nero." I told her.

"Oh, that's a really cool name. I'm Kyrie. Pleased to meet you." She stuck out her hand, waiting for me to take it.

Reluctantly, I loosely clasped mine around hers and meekly shook it.

"So what are you doing here?" Her eyes bugged at me, as she grinned my way. "Is your mom or dad sick?"

I wordlessly shook my head, letting my eyes drift towards the juice box. My pant legs, perfectly stained with a puddle of its juice box perspiration.

"Your brother or sister, maybe? Are they alright?"

Instead of speaking, I stood up from my spot, not bothering to look at her before I ran off, back to Peyton's room. The way she pressed for details was painful because it reminded me of Peyton. Her brown eyes and her defiantly cheery disposition didn't perfectly match. Her eyes weren't a startling gold and her skin wasn't a deep olive and she didn't have that same mole under the corner of her lip. But all I could think of was Peyton and that day she forced her way into that fight for me. The way she uppercut Cadwell and briskly shoved him back so we could make a futile get away.

But being back at her room, only hurt more, when I found her breathing quietly into that plastic face mask, with her eyes shut. Her long dark lashes laid gently across her lids, and her bright caramel hair, hung loosely around her face. I hadn't even realized how long it had gotten in the past three months she'd been here—the past the months she's been stuck in a coma.

I quietly moved toward the bed, the urge to grab her shoulders and call out her name growing dangerous by the second. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying when the creak of the door sounded loudly behind me.

Quickly, I turned back to find that the girl from before had been stood there, silently watching me only to run off when I caught her in the act.

** _…Present Day…_ **

After pushing up past the base of the mountain, it didn't take me long to find her, as a thick trail black snow and charred dirt led me directly to the spot where she lay.

I shouted for her, not really thinking of much else, catching her body, mangled and unmoving under giant patch of snow and rock that had, presumably, collapsed on top of her when she made impact. Frantically, I rushed towards her expecting the worst, raking the fallen chunks of earth and bits snow and ice off of her. But when I pulled away the sheet of debris that blanketed her body, I was both relieved... and confused at what I saw.

A pool of blood, rested beneath her head, trickling from her temple as she lie face down in the snow. Her neck craned at an impossible angle, as though it had been jolted out of place. Her arms curled beneath her and at her sides, in a painful way that seemed... appropriate when juxtapose to the scenario that preceded it but... Peyton technically shouldn't have been alive.

Yet somehow she was breathing peacefully as if she'd simply been asleep.

I furrowed my brow, unsure of what to make of this exactly. Glancing about at the frozen world around me, I noticed a small flurry of snow started to blow its way in this direction. And knowing I wouldn't be making much progress with an unconscious Peyton, I figured it was better to find a safe place to wait it out until she came to.

** _…Back to The Past…_ **

"Nero!"

A week had passed before I saw her again. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, swaying energetically behind her.

She found me in the same spot as last time. My eyes stuck to the TV as I sat in the sitting room alone.

"How goes it?" She asked brightly.

I looked away from her, and back to the TV as my response. Silence quickly filled the space between us when she stood up from her chair before carefully peeking into my face behind the curtain of bangs.

"Is it okay... if I meet her?" Her voice was more tender this time, as her bright eyes seemed to try to read mine.

I bashfully looked away as a warmth trickled across my face. The growing notion of all girls being pushy, solidifying.

I didn't say anything though. I just stood up and sauntered out of the room, only pausing once to look back as I waited for her to realize my invitation. It wasn't until we got to the room that I noticed the little pot in her hands that housed a tiny sort of budding plant.

"A croton. It'll bloom in no time. And she'll have something to take home when she wakes up." Carefully she placed it on the bedside table before turning her attention to Peyton. "She's really pretty." The girl said softly, sitting down in the chair, I'd offered her, next to the bed. "So.. Is she..."

"She's my friend from the orphanage." I told her. "She... fell..."

The girl blinked at me with big eyes before turning to look at Peyton's sleeping face. Then she clasped her hands together and proceeded to whisper out a small prayer.

"Why are you doing that?" I inquired. "You... don't even know her."

After a moment, her whispers stopped and she slowly opened her eyes. The tiniest smile pressed firmly against her lips.

"But you do. And she's important to you." She said. "Which means, that If your here right now, you're all she has."

I already knew that.

"She's so cute... I wish I had a little sister." She laughed a bit. "My mom and dad say they want to have another child so badly. But, for some reason, every time she tries she gets really sick, and so does the baby. This time, she got so ill... The doctors told her that she may not be able to carry any more children for a long time... And I guess that means that I might not be able to get another brother or sister..."

I pressed my lips together as I stared at her profile, unsure of what to say. Her light brown eyes clouded over as she relieved herself of that heavy little burden that wasn't hers to carry in the first place.

"But in a way... you're pretty lucky!" She looked up at me now. "You've basically got lots of brothers and sisters at the orphanage, right? Like a really big family!"

"...Yeah." I guess it wasn't a lie. But I didn't really see it that way. Peyton was the only one that really mattered to me. But I couldn't bring myself to tell her that. Not when she looked so upset.

I didn't know anything about this girl, but, seeing her unhappy took me back to the last time Peyton looked at me. Her bright gold eyes spilling tears for something she loved. I clenched the spot over my heart, the wad of my shirt wrinkling in my grasp as I forced back the pain and guilt. If only... I'd done something sooner... maybe she'd still be awake. Even if that meant that I was the one lying in that bed.

The girl a—I mean... Kyrie and I ended up seeing each other every week for the next few weeks until her mom was feeling better. After that, she'd come by occasionally to visit Peyton on the days she knew I'd be there to check in and see if she'd woken up. Her parents had joined her, gushing and fawning over me, and how much of a sweet and kind boy I'd been. And never forgetting to mention how my hair had been just as white as the Savior's—the one the town worshiped and idolized.

It wasn't too long before I saw them around the orphanage, scoping out the kids. Their gentle eyes happily glossed over the abandoned lot of children that lived just as blissfully as any normal one, as they waited for their "forever home" as the matrons tended to call it. But the nervous tug in my stomach, surged at the sight of them, knowing all too well why they'd been here.

"Hey, you!" I heard Kyrie's voice from the entrance to the rose garden.

Looking up to find her bright glossy hair bounce around her shoulders as she walked towards me, I felt my breath catch in my throat. I tightly gripped the bud of a rose, I'd found fallen beneath the bushes. I refused to look at her as she sat down next to me on the bench.

"What, not happy to see me?" She asked playfully.

I bit my lip as I looked up, staring out into the court yard at the other kids playing. I noticed Cadwell, bothering some older kid, with dark brown hair and a face that matched Kyrie's. He looked mildly annoyed, seeming like he was trying to be nice enough to listen, but I knew Cadwell was impossible to ignore.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"Oh, Credo?" She answered, following my gaze. "That's my older brother."

"I see..."

"What's wrong?"

I didn’t answer as my eyes drifted away from the court yard. With a heavy inhale I stood up from my spot and turned to face her. Her puzzled expression, glowing innocently against the sun light, filtering in through the canopy overhead.

"Why are you... why are you here?" I asked.

"…So you aren’t happy to see me..." Her smile was so bright as she teased but it faded when I tore my gaze away from hers.

I fixed my mouth to speak. The words, having been trapped in my stomach resolving to find a way out. "I don't--"

"Nero! There you are! You've some visitors." A voice from behind me, broke through the quiet. Turning I found one of the matron's had been stood there, grinning broadly at me. "I see one of them has already made your acquaintance."

Kyrie and the house mother began a conversation that muffled and mixed in my ears. The world around me slowly began shifting in that same nauseating way that it did when Peyton took that hard fall. I almost hadn't been completely there when I'd gone to talk with Kyrie's parent's. Their promises and penetrating smiles somehow felt forced and faked. I knew they were kind people but when I looked at them, and the idea that they wanted me to be their new son, I only thought about Peyton and leaving her behind.

I really did like Kyrie and her family. But I felt like I was betraying Peyton if I allowed myself to get adopted. Even worse... I felt like I was betraying her more If I didn't.

"You'll still be able to see her." Kyrie's mom told me when she'd come to visit some days later. "I understand just how important she is to you." Her warm brown eyes gently gazed at me as if she was looking at a delicate child, that would break if they were ever told "no."

I frowned, unable to express why that hadn’t entirely been the problem.

** _…Present Day…_ **

Peyton wasn't that heavy—for me at least. So I ended up carrying her through the entirety of the mines. It was the most uneventful, safest and thankfully the quickest route up the mountain top that conveniently cut a clear path straight to Fortuna Castle. Though even after making it so close to the top, Peyton still remained unconscious.

Watching the flurry turned full on blizzard, rage outside the mouth of the exit of the tunnel, I decided that this would have to be the place to stop. Carefully I set Peyton down along the ground of frozen dirt, going to work at checking her wounds. The howling cries of the storm were the only accompanying sounds aside from the buzzing of the electric lamps that flickered dimly along the sodden walls.

Gently sifting through the many folds of her gear, belts, chains and straps, I noticed a sort of charred hole, hiding beneath her leather cowl. It sat just between her shoulder and collar, as if something pierced through the flesh thus tearing a hole in the fabric. But further inspection for the possibility of a wound, found that there had been nothing to attest any had ever been there. No gash, hole, or blood as evidence that she'd been harmed recently. Even weirder, the blood at her forehead seemed to have come from... nowhere. It was like she'd had someone else’s blood spilled onto her to make it appear as though she'd gotten badly hurt.

And in all honesty after seeing that crash, realistically...

She shouldn't have even been alive.

I found my eyes drifting towards Peyton's peaceful face. Her long dark lashes gently blanketing her eyelids, seemed to be hiding all the answers to the questions that I'd so greatly wanted to ask. The truth behind her eyes always seemed to be so plainly hidden—always turning me away and ultimately keeping me shut out. Even when the answers were right there in front of me.

I hated to think Peyton and I were so close. Especially when I didn't even begin to know a thing about what happened after she'd gotten adopted by His Holiness. I wasn't so dumb that I couldn't tell that she was hiding something. I'd known her all our lives, so it was easy to tell when she was faking it and when she was being genuine. And of course, it hurt to watch her gradually close herself off until... well what happened a year back. But I never could have imagined that maybe... it was connected to the incident that happened back when we were kids.

What had happened to her right eye couldn't have just been a miracle... just like that accident that followed Berial's temper tantrum.

I didn't want to jump to any conclusions, even when the bits of evidence had...and still remain, right in front of me.

** _…Back to The Past…_ **

"Sh-she's awake! Peyton's awake!" Kyrie's mom exclaimed as she ran into my room one day. Her rosy cheeks were flushed a deep crimson like they tended to when she experienced any sort of excitement.

Eventually, I did get adopted into the family and Kyrie and her brother became my older siblings. While at first it was weird, I guess I slowly got used to everything that came with it. School, family dinners, homework and extra activities. But there had never been a day that went by where I didn't think of Peyton, and hope that she could wake up and get a chance to have the same experiences that I did.

So when Kyrie's mom, breathlessly announced the news, all I could feel with a boiling sensation churning in my stomach. I couldn't decide if it was my nerves or the guilt, but I knew excited wasn't exactly the word I wanted to go for.

I watched silently as the nurse gently unraveled Peyton's bandages. Her drowsy golden eyes, blinked lazily, plastered blankly at the sheets. Her lolling head that dipped from shoulder to shoulder, spilling her honey brown hair into her chest.

The doctor had told me not to expect much... That she was likely to fall back to sleep and that even if she didn't she may not be fully responsive after what had been just a few days over seven months in a coma. But, when the bandages fell away, and her absent eyes drifted towards mine, I couldn't help but feel a shameful excitement.

The gash that Peyton had received all those months ago had completely healed up. Where once, her left eye was smashed in and bloody, there sat a new one as if it had just... regrown itself. Though this was one different, not matching her right. Instead, it was clouded with a large splotch of white that sat right inside the burning rim of gold.

I was told that this was a cataract due to the trauma she received from the fall. She might be able to see out of it, but since Peyton hasn't said a word since she woke up, they weren't sure just yet.

But I didn't care about any of that as I held my breath, when the nurse stepped out of the room, and Peyton had furrowed her eye brows at me as if she was trying to formulate some sort of response. I wondered if she realized how long it had been... Or maybe if the doctors had told her. I had to guess the latter but, would she even understand? Not wanting to wait a second longer, I opened my mouth to speak at her.

** _… Present Day…_ **

I sat there in that dark tunnel entrance for what felt like a little over an hour, just watching absently as the whistling winds from the outside shot past. The white wall of the storm, blocked out any view from the outside as bits of ice and snow flitted in, occasionally spraying the ground just at the mouth—the already frigid dirt, accepting a fresh new layer of frost.

Dragging my gaze away from the storm, my eyes fell upon Peyton's brow. Her eyes still shut, I wondered if the cold wasn't doing her more harm than good. Though the gentle rise and fall of her chest might have been the perfect indicator, she was alright. Despite that, I threw my coat over her, just to be on the safe side. Though, I'm pretty sure it didn't do much of anything against the below zero temperatures.

Resting my head against the cool dirt wall I somehow managed to doze off. The howling winter storm blended seamlessly into the echo of the tunnel, lulling me into a very unintended sleep.

Dreams chased away the darkness behind my eyes, flooding my senses with the echoing horrors of screams and terror. I was thirteen years old again, standing terrified among a writhing mob of fleeing people racing for the exit of the old Fortuna chapel. Suddenly my legs were pulled into action as someone aggressively yanked my arm forward. With wide unfocused eyes I looked to find that it had been Peyton. She'd been glancing back at me, screaming at me to snap out of it.

"Kyrie! We've gotta find Kyrie!"

I... I think that's what I heard her shouting at me, as the world around me blurred and muffled, yet still growing louder with every person that bumped into me. Her bright gold eyes seemed to glow as they searched fruitlessly for the person in question. And soon the crowd began to trickle with few wounded stragglers who looked to have been badly injured—bleeding as they limped away from the unseen danger that tore through the hall.

Suddenly all I could see were corpses. Broken bodies of fallen townsfolk lie mangled along the floor slick with crimson liquid. The air was freezing yet ripe with the smell of rust—the heavy presence of blood dulling my senses. Then just as abruptly, my vision was jolted back ahead of me as the sounds of inhuman cries entered my ears.

There, right in front of me, had been Peyton. But she wasn't alone as a demon in the shape of a man stood tall before her, seeming to appear out of nowhere. It's blackened skin was dark like charcoal and it's eyes glowed a vicious red. It hissed at her, lunging in an instant. Peyton raked her hand free of mine, shoving me back as if she were about to deal with the thing on her own. But just as she'd managed to push me out of harm’s way, the demon, had already claimed her as his victim with its sharp claws torn through her chest, spraying blood and viscera from her small form. Her bright gold eyes, glistening with abject terror, were bolted wide open. The smallest strangled yelp of pain barely made it past her throat as she'd tried to turn to catch my gaze. But in her attempts, the demon ran her through with the length of his arm, piercing through her heart.

"Peyton!" I shouted, my eyes bolted opened. And despite the cold, I was sweating bullets.

Although, embarrassingly... the real and present day Peyton was stooped right there in front of me, a very worried albeit confused expression taking shape on her face.

"Bad dream?" She asked softly.

I wasn't gonna tell her what it was really about—that it entailed the events that occurred during the last Accolade ceremony to take place just on the other side of this very mountain. Another bad accident in our lifetime that left another scar in our relationship which remained unspoken of to this very moment.

I, instead opted to lowering my face, my eyes caught the glow of my demonic arm. "More or less.." I answered her flatly.

Seeming unsatisfied with that response, Peyton leaned away. A deeply ruminative glow simmered behind her golden eyes. "Well then, thanks for the warmth." She then held out my coat. "I can't imagine it was easy lugging me up all this way. I'm surprised I'm even alive after all that. Though… please tell me you didn't let that obnoxious lout win after my abrupt departure."

There was the faintest smile on her face though, I could easily tell she was uncomfortable—especially in talking about the end of that fight. The notion that she was hiding something I dreaded I already knew, growing more obvious by the minute. And what was more odd, was that it didn't seem like she was really even trying to hide it. Almost like she was resigning herself to the fact that the jig was up.

"He threw a bitch fit and ran away." I said accepting the coat from her.

Peyton nodded, as she turned away from me. Her quiet stare was fixed along the sheet of writhing snow, undulating at the tunnel’s exit. With a sigh, she combed her fingers through her hair before going to work and putting it back into a loose braid. Almost completely entranced by her shimmering brown locks that reflected the gently blue lights what caressed her face, I found myself growing warm, fast, despite the freezing cold. Then her intense golden eyes met mine as she glance my way and I was only grateful I hadn't been talking or I'd probably lose my train of thought.

Dammit... She was so beautiful, a lump started to form in my throat.

Not having seen her in so long, it felt like I'd almost forgotten what she could do to me. Something in me wanted to reach out and touch her. But I knew things were too fragile between us. Though she was right there, it felt like she was miles away. And every time I tried to get a little closer she seemed to run further.

Suddenly she neared me, leaning a bit intently into my eyes as she inspected my face. "What about you?" She asked. "Are you alright? You look a bit..."

She didn't finish as her hand brushed against my forehead, mussing up the bangs in my face. Her brown skin seamed to glow against the outside light. Doing everything in my power, I tried not to let my eyes drift any lower. Catching her wrist in mine, I moved her hand away as nice as I could while I shut my eyes.

"Of course I am…" I said, a sigh escaped my lips as I fought against the heat that threatened to creep across my cheeks.

"What about... your arm?" Her voice softened as her other hand, carefully neared my right side.

I almost flinched as she touched my exposed shoulder. Her fingers lightly tracing along the ridges of the armor like skin. I watched her silently as her hand explored my new arm, her brows furrowing as the expression on her face seemed more or less sad and hurt. I wondered what she'd been thinking but for some reason my voice wasn't working as I gazed at her.

"It's so hard..." She muttered.

My eyes brows rose slowly as I wasn't sure I'd heard her right.

Suddenly her eyes popped and her cheeks were awash with a vibrant crimson. Withdrawing her hand she immediately stood and turned to face away from me. I couldn't help but let go a few laughs at the slightly innocent slip. Though Peyton, of course, hadn't been laughing. Her ears were bright red as she clasped her hands at her shoulders.

"That's-- n-not what I meant!" She insisted, only drawing out more laughs from me.

"Sure it wasn't." I chuckled.

And when she turned, I felt like I almost had a stroke. Her adorable baby face, pouted down at me. Embarrassed she let go a curt sigh as she glanced out of the mouth of the mining exit. Her expression turning sullen and once again, I could feel her closing herself off.

"I'm... sorry I wasn't there for you afterwards..." She finally said, her eyes drifting off to somewhere far away. She held herself tightly, her arms wrapping around her—one clamped firmly along her chest with the other around her waist. The shadows that touched her body, held her comfortably as the darkness teetered against the small bit of blue light that teased around her curves.

"I wasn't... sure if you were okay with me around after...what happened. I didn't mean to... push you away like that. I was just a little... unprepared, I think."

She was talking about what happened in her dad's office.

It happened a whole year ago, but it was always fresh in my mind. It was the first time I tried to make a real move on her. The first time I boldly touched her body and felt her warmth. And the first time I'd attempted to kiss her. I remembered that look on her face too. Her reddened face, flushed and clouded in a mist of innocent ecstasy. I was barely doing anything to her at all and she still managed to let a couple of moans escape her soft, rosy lips.

I could have easily just taken her at that moment, if she'd let me but, it was that look in her eyes when she pushed me away. That look that I can't get out of my head—an expression of fear and discomfort.

I'd always wondered if it was me that made her so opposed to that moment but, every time I looked back on it from a different angle, it never seemed to make any sense. She was always to herself, and so reserved but she'd never pushed me away before that point.

I wanted so badly just to know what was wrong. To ask her and promise that I could make it better for her sake, but that was hard. Hard because up ‘til then, I'd never thought too deeply about Peyton's life. Just that she didn't prefer to talk about it, and that she never expressed much about her time after adoption. I wondered if things had happened. Things she couldn't say rather than wouldn't.

"It's... not really your fault." I told her. And I really did believe that. I hardly gave her a chance to explain herself, at the time. I suppose this could have maybe all been avoided if I'd swallowed my pride and stayed to listen.

"But I could've at least done more to explain myself." She protested, her eyes clipped to the ground. "I had plenty of time between then and now to do it..."

"Well, then maybe we're both to blame." I suggested. "You can't really take all the flack for what happened. I'm just as responsible for things being weird. I mean... I know I shouldn't have tried to--"

"N-No, that... that's... that wasn't... What happened wasn't the issue it was just... that I..." She seemed to be grasping for words, clutching herself tighter and tighter as if she was... terrified to confess what she'd been harboring all this time.

"Peyton..." I called her name and she glanced up at me briefly before looking away.

"...Never mind. It's... nothing." She sighed. The audible quaking in her voice was enough to get me to back off.

I wasn't one to pry, and I was patient enough when it came to Peyton. Though the feeling of her slamming the door in my face, on her feelings was painfully clear. Still, I suspect something might have been different about her circumstances. It was frustrating enough knowing that something deeper might have been eating her up inside. And the 'not knowing' part was already killing me enough as it was. Whatever it had to be, it must have been big enough to keep the divide between us as wide and vast. And clearly it was still growing.

** _…Back to The Past…_ **

"Why you're even more beautiful, awake."

Kyrie's... well technically, she was my mom now too... but that was something I hadn't gotten used to yet. Anyways... Kyrie's mom, and the orphanage Director stood silently in the room before the nurse had left. Despite them being there I was pretty determined to be the first one to say anything to Peyton. But my chance was stolen by the kind words of my newly appointed mother.

"Just look at those beautiful eyes, finally wide open." She gushed, having been sat along the bed, clasping one of Peyton's hands in her own. She'd looked back at the director who'd been accompanied by a singular matron.

"Indeed." The Director added. "I bet, Nero here is super excited, to finally see you’re awake, Peyton."

But Peyton, stared around with silent confusion, from the strange woman in the bed to the orderly and the Director that towered over her. Her mismatched eyes drifted towards me and her brows furrowed a bit, as if to ask what the big idea was. I couldn't help but frown through a tiny smile, trying to at least sort of ease her confusion but I could tell that it wasn't helping.

"And she looks so healthy too." The Director murmured as they began to speak amongst themselves. "It's almost as if this whole thing was just a big nightmare, don't you think? Like it never happened."

"And her eye too.." The matron whispered. "It's a bit... unsettling but I can't believe it's completely healed. Can she see from it?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, finding it difficult to tune out their words. Luckily I didn't need to worry about that for long as the doctor and the nurse strutted into the room looking busy and important. The blur of their grown up talk mushed together in a flurry of big words too practiced for my nine-year- old vocabulary.

Physiotherapy. Rehabilitation. Concussion. Dilated eye exam. Possible Light Sensitivity.

I tried to keep up with what the doctor was telling the Director and Kyrie's mom but I was caught between wondering what all of that stuff meant. I guess seeing my face twisted into a knot of confusion was what brought on the Nurse's unexpected suggestion.

"Since Peyton just woke up, how about we take her outside for a little bit. Maybe get some fresh air?" She spoke to me directly, but loud enough so that the other grown up could hear—maybe a bit too loud, causing a sort of break in their conversation.

I nodded silently as I stood. The nurse left the room briefly and returned with a wheelchair for Peyton. Easily she got her out of the bed and carefully seated her in the chair before, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and rolling her out the room.

"I know you've got this place memorized like the back of your hand." The nurse grinned at me knowingly. "Would you like to take her out to the court yard on your own? I've got a hunch I can trust you with that."

I gave the nurse another silent nod, before eagerly pushing Peyton down the hall, past the cafeteria and out into the hospital courtyard. The sky was a faded blue and the chilly air rustled up a flock of leaves the colors of orange, yellow and red. They brushed along through the air, before loudly skittering to the ground, settling along with the rest of the dying leaves and making soggy homes in piles across the light green grass.

Having parked Peyton beneath a cluster of trees near the courtyard's fountain, I watched as her stormy eyes, stared on at the world around her. A troubled look of confusion was smudged all over her face, and her clear eyes were almost impossible to read.

Having sat near here along one of the many open back benches, I knelt into the grass, pretending to busy myself as I waited uncomfortably within the awkward bubble of silence that was quickly shrinking around us. I wasn't really sure what to say to her but I knew I couldn’t just pretend like she couldn't understand me even if she couldn't respond.

Anxiously, with a knot of a few blades grass entwined between my fingers, I began to speak to her again.

"I don't... Understand..." Peyton suddenly croaked. Her voice raspy and dry as she forced the words out.

Stunned, I stared at her with wide eyes. The doctor said she may not be able to talk right away. But here she was, proving him wrong. Though, instead of the little surprise coming as a happy one, the troubled look on her face only made me dread what words would come out of her mouth next.

"What do... what do you mean?" I asked quietly.

"What... What's going on? Why are the leaves turning color... when spring is supposed to be a few days away? Why is my hair all long and why do you look so different? Is this some sort of... prank or something?" She asked, her voice trembling as she looked directly at me now. Her bright gold eyes glossed over quickly, pooling with clear tears. "Because if it is... it... it isn't funny. And I want... I want to go home... And I want to see Mr. Scruffles."

She held my gaze firmly as her brows knitted together and the tears spilled over the brim of her eyelids. The warm liquid streaked down her cheeks in a quiet surrender to the pain she was struggling to come to terms with. As the cool autumn wind pushed her hair into her face, it almost masked the fierce trembling of her lip as she continued to stare at me with pain and confusion.

I couldn't help but clamp my lips together in an attempt to remain strong. Or maybe it was that I had already lost that fight and I was giving in to the fear and the guilt. Whichever one it was, watching Peyton cry... hurt. A lot. I didn't know what else to do but tell her the truth, even if that meant that it was gonna hurt her.

"You... You don't-- You don't remember?" I asked, blinking fiercely in a struggle to push back the tears.

Peyton just barely shook her head, her eyes frozen on my face.

"You... You were..." I stopped for a minute, my eyes drifted to the brittle, lime green grass as I remembered that evening. And every emotion I felt just came rushing back. "We... got in that fight. And then you got pushed and then... and then... you... you fell."

I took a breath before continuing, looking back at Peyton whose face was now masked over with large frozen eyes that seemed afraid to hear the truth she already knew. And when I took too long to say anything at all, she sank her head deep between her shoulders, her hair curtaining her face so that I could only hear the quiet sniffling that seemed to quickly get stolen away by the cool winds.

"M-Mr. Scruffles is gone." I managed to continue, my shoulders shuddering now as my own battle against the tears was already lost as they free fell down my face as I spoke. "I don't know where they took him.... And you... it was like you'd gone with him. You wouldn't wake up, you were all bloody and hurt. I didn't even know they took you to the hospital until the next morning. They said you were in a coma—that you weren't waking up. And you didn't wake up for so long I thought—Maybe you never would"

"And that woman...?" Peyton's voice was so quiet, I almost didn't catch it. But the second it took me to realize what she'd said, my chest seized up with guilt and I had trouble looking at her when her eyes poked through the waterfall of her long, light brown hair.

My lips were pressed together tightly again, afraid to answer. But Peyton wasn't stupid that she couldn't make a guess. She might have looked really out of it but it was obvious she was paying close attention. And I'm pretty sure my silence only confirmed her suspicion.

Without me even saying anything, a wry smile took shape on her lips. With one big sniffle and a deep breath, she wiped her cheeks dry in her hospital sleeve and clumsily pulled the hair out of her eyes. I'd only been looking at her eyes since she woke up, but it was then that I realized how different she appeared. Not just because of her long hair or what happened to her left eye but... something else.

"I can't believe...." She laughed a little and I could hear how forced it was. "You really got adopted before me! I'm the cuter one. You're all... mister grumpy puss."

She wasn't looking at me at all any more. Her eyes were everywhere but on my face and I could tell that she was trying to be strong for both of us. For me, because it was supposed to be a good thing to be adopted and for her because I guess... when she finally left the hospital I wouldn't be there with her every day like before.

We sat there in silence for a little while longer. I was getting this strange feeling that Peyton didn't want to talk much after that, as she quickly settled into the silence almost too easily. Like she was just giving into it and letting it take over her once again. When I looked, I found that she'd actually fallen back to sleep. Her head gently resting along the cloth of the back of the chair and her face wet with tears that glistened against the rays of light that spilled in through the trees above.

Recalling my conversation with Kyrie’s mom before I was adopted, I think I understood now what it was I was so afraid of. It wasn’t just not being able to see Peyton anymore. It was the fact that I knew she’d brave her feelings alone, just to make sure I was happy. She always put the other kids before herself. And I was afraid that I was going to join the rest of those kids at the orphanage and everyone else when it came to her keeping how she felt a secret from the world—Even if it was always written on her face. 


End file.
